


A Way in the Wilderness

by peridotsarelongterm



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: Accents, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Blow Jobs, Closet Sex, Clothed Sex, Come Swallowing, Creampie, Cunnilingus, Dirty Talk, Drunk Sex, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/M, Falling In Love, Female Friendship, First Time, First Time Blow Jobs, First Time Together, Fluff and Smut, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Jealousy, Large Cock, McCoy is pretty much an ass at the beginning, Outdoor Sex, Past Character Death, Penis In Vagina Sex, Period-Typical Sexism, Pining, Porn With Plot, Praise Kink, Reader-Insert, Road Trips, Romance, Sir Kink, Size Kink, Sleep Groping, Sleepy Cuddles, Slow Burn, Swearing, THERE WAS ONLY ONE BED, Wedding Fluff, Western, but not too bad I don’t think, sorry guys don’t know what my problem is, well buzzed anyway
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-07
Updated: 2020-09-22
Packaged: 2021-03-06 23:20:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 26,556
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26343265
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/peridotsarelongterm/pseuds/peridotsarelongterm
Summary: It’s 1895, and Ft. Enterprise, Arizona Territory, is getting its first-ever female medical staff. What will she find when she gets there (besides an assy commanding officer)? An enemies to friends to lovers slow(ish) burn.Chapters with smut will contain asterisks (* = bit of smut, ** = unabashed smut)
Relationships: James T. Kirk/Leonard "Bones" McCoy/Spock, James T. Kirk/Leonard “Bones” McCoy, Leonard "Bones" McCoy/Reader, Leonard "Bones" McCoy/You
Comments: 25
Kudos: 92





	1. Day One

**Author's Note:**

> This is partly inspired by an episode of The Virginian (“Man of Violence”) that co-starred DeForest Kelley, Leonard Nimoy, and Jim Goodwin (one of the pre-Chekov navigators from TOS S1).
> 
> Bones is a bit rougher around the edges here, but he’ll warm up. He’s just been hurt, poor lil fella. :)
> 
> (This should be workable for AOS if you ignore the eye color references for the dr.)

If you’d needed a reminder that you weren’t at home anymore, the sound of a bugle blaring right outside your window at 5:30 a.m. was a good one. You yawned heavily, rubbing the 4 or so hours of sleep you’d gotten out of your eyes, and looked out the window.

The sun was just barely starting to peek over the red mountains, but already you could feel the heat of the day creeping up. This was your first day at Fort Enterprise, and not just that - it was your first day as the first member of the brand-new Army Nurse Corps to be posted in the Arizona Territory. This was no small honor for a nurse, especially a relatively inexperienced one like you. Even though Enterprise was small and remote, Superintendent Christine Chapel had excitedly reminded you before you’d left that you were likely making military history.

Hopefully your new CO was the type to keep coffee around, you thought. If you were going to be making history, you’d prefer to go down as a nurse who knew what she was doing and didn’t doze off in the middle of her first day.

Swinging your legs over the side of your plain bed frame, you stood up, filled your wash basin, and started getting ready. As you washed, relishing the feel of the cool water on your skin, you reflected on what you’d learned so far and prepared yourself for the day ahead.

You’d taken the Espee Sunset train straight from Los Angeles to Phoenix, and then the local short line the rest of the way. The cheapest train was also the latest, so by the time you’d arrived, most of the post had been asleep. You’d only had the opportunity to meet the colonel himself, a surprisingly young man named James T. Kirk, and his first officer, a quiet man who introduced himself as only Lt. Col. Spock. The Chief Medical Officer himself, who you’d be reporting to, was already asleep, so you’d be meeting him this morning.

Chapel hadn’t told you much about him other than his name - Leonard McCoy. She had been much more excited over Kirk’s progressive decision to introduce female medical personnel to his post. You weren’t really concerned, though. So long as the CMO was a hard worker who respected the same in his colleagues, you were sure you and he would get along just fine.

After toweling off what little water hadn’t instantly evaporated from your skin, you proceeded to get dressed, glad that your long-sleeved, gray uniform was at least more breathable cotton and not wool. You fastened on your boots and finally added to one petticoat pocket your wedding band from your late husband, George. You weren’t really superstitious, exactly, but you liked to think that wherever he was, he was proud and supportive of your decision to go through with this.

Finally washed and ready to go, you set out for the infirmary. 

~~~~~

Enterprise’s infirmary was an unassuming building in the same overgrown log cabin style as most of the structures at the fort. Seated in the front room were two men, one with a white coat over his black uniform shirt and another with corporal’s stripes. To your relief, between them was a large coffeepot, and it looked like they were both in the middle of partaking.

The officer in the white coat looked you up and down with a casual expression. This must be McCoy, you thought. You couldn’t help but notice he wasn’t bad-looking at all - about 40, you estimated, with a slender build, thick, wavy, dark hair and blue eyes that seemed especially vivid next to the monochrome of his doctor’s uniform. Not that you were here to be anything but professional, but some scenery out here in the middle of nowhere probably couldn’t hurt.

Then he opened his mouth.

“Well, good morning, you must be Nurse Y/LN!” he exclaimed, with a hint of a southern accent and a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Kind of you to show up for your first day of duty!”

“Sir?” Taken aback, you glanced at the clock in the corner. 7:04. You could’ve sworn the clock in your room had said 6:45 when you left, so you should have been several minutes early, but evidently not. “Sorry about that, sir,” you said, not wanting to prolong the moment with an explanation that would probably be heard as an excuse. “Won’t happen again. Yes, I’m Nurse Y/LN. What, uh...can I get started on?”

He sighed. “Right. Come with me,” he said, holding the door to the main infirmary for you. “Farrell,” he said, motioning to the corporal, “would you go rustle up another pot of this coffee?”

McCoy proceeded to show you around the large room, showing you what was what and explaining the various rules and protocols. It was a ton of information being spoken relatively fast and you knew you probably wouldn’t remember everything, so you grabbed the small notepad from your petticoat pocket and started to scribble some highlights.

“What on earth are you doing, nurse?”

“I’m just taking a few notes, sir.”

He rolled his eyes. “You really can’t keep up with this?”

“Sir, I just want to make sure I get up to speed as quickly as possible. Taking notes helped me a lot in school, and—”

He waved you off. “Hold on, are you telling me you just got out of school? This isn’t your first assignment or something, is it?”

You bit your lip. “It...is, sir. But I’m a fast learner. And I was valedictorian of my class, if that helps.” Seeing his expression, you started to feel annoyed yourself, and you wondered if Chapel, in her excitement over your assignment, had left out this detail in her communications with Kirk. “Well, I have to start somewhere, don’t I?” 

He muttered something under his breath about Jim Kirk and shook his head. “I suppose,” he said. “What kind of training do you have?” 

“I went to the College Training School of Nurses.” He stared at you blankly, and you added, “USC College of Medicine?”

He snorted. “Never heard of it.”

“Well, it’s a ways from here. It’s in Los Angeles.”

He snorted again, louder this time, and rolled his eyes. “Ah. You may find things a bit different here, my dear. We treat humans here, not sheep or cattle.”

You stared at him, wondering what the fuck this man’s problem was and if he’d even ever been to California. It was true that your town hadn’t been much more than a farming hamlet of 5,000 when you were little, but it had changed a lot in the last 20 years thanks to the railroads, and what McCoy was implying was a rural cow-town was now more like a city of 100,000 people. For all his medical expertise, the doctor clearly didn’t get out much.

“Thanks, doctor,” you said, trying to keep the sarcasm from seeping into your voice. “I’ll try and bear that in mind.” The look he shot you confirmed you hadn’t been successful.

“Nurse, I’m not sure if you’ve noticed, but this is a small fort. We’re a good day’s ride from the nearest city, we’re frequently short on morphine, and mail from anywhere takes an extra week to get here. One thing we have no immediate need of is a nurse with an attitude problem. If you want to keep this post, I strongly suggest you leave that sass back at the pueblo. Do I make myself clear?”

You fought down your impulse to point out that 99% of the “sass” so far had been his and just nodded. “Yes sir. Clear,” you said. 

Unfortunately, the remainder of your shift was no less uncomfortable. You weren’t sure whether it was your fault that you’d gotten off on such a wrong foot or if he was just looking for a fight, but all the hopes you’d had of making a good first impression were soon dashed. By the time you got back to your quarters, all you could do was heave a sigh and be grateful the day was over. 

As you shook out your bedsheets to make sure no you had no venomous stowaways and then tried to get comfortable despite the so-called “dry” heat, you wondered what the hell you’d gotten yourself into. Things had been a lot more straightforward when George had been alive. For a few moments, all the old grief and anger surfaced, and you found yourself wondering once again why it had to be you. Every other woman you knew had gotten financial security and companionship out of marriage. You’d gotten the exact opposite: you had left a close-knit family and financial stability to marry a man they didn’t approve of, so any safety net you’d had - financial or emotional - was now gone. You’d parlayed what George had left into education so you could support yourself, so you needed these Army paychecks; going back home wouldn’t be an option for at least a few months, and even then, you weren’t sure what you’d do once there. No, you were pretty well stuck. 

You gave yourself a few minutes to indulge the wave of despondency and then let it pass. Unfair or not, it didn’t really matter at this point. This was reality now, and as homesick as you were starting to feel, you knew it could be much worse. You reminded yourself of this and also that this part had at least been your choice - you had studied hard to practice medicine, and for multiple reasons, signing on here was a good career move. You had already won a strong professional ally in Chapel, and if you could build a good reputation among the personnel here, that could secure you nearly endless opportunities for years to come. And who knew? Maybe it really was just a bad first impression and things would improve. In any case, you’d been through worse than a grouchy boss, and you’d make it work, at least long enough to rebuild your savings.


	2. Adjustments

Normally, 8:00 p.m. on Wednesday was time for the senior officers’ weekly game of poker, but tonight Dr. McCoy was too busy wearing out the rug in front of Jim Kirk’s desk while the colonel listened and Lt. Colonel Spock looked on in mild amusement.

“Blast it, Jim,” he groused. “You couldn’t have just given me a regular apprentice. Even an E-3 would have done. No, you had to give me this beautiful dish of incompetence with a...a veterinary degree.”

“That seems a little harsh, Bones. Come on, she’s only been here a day. What could she have done so terribly wrong?” Kirk asked. 

“She was 4 minutes late getting here, she couldn’t figure out where I keep the iodine, she gave me grief about washin’ my hands...which, well, she had a point there, but....the way she asked it! ‘Doesn’t your staff wash their hands, doctor?’ She’s fresh out of school and she thinks she knows more than someone who’s been in the field 15 years!”

Kirk couldn’t resist cracking a smile. Clearly, this Y/LN had some temerity to question his CMO on something medical. He liked her already. “That all just seems like part of settling in. She’ll get the hang of it.”

“Indeed,” Spock agreed. “Incidentally, doctor, I hope you did wash your hands.”

McCoy looked exasperated. “That’s not the point, Spock. It’s her whole attitude. She has a temper, I can already tell. I could see the way her eyes rolled when she thought I wasn’t looking. You know how women are, Jim, they can be so damn sensitive and ornery.”

“Emotional?” Kirk asked, smiling and glancing at Spock.

“Well, yes!”

“In that case, doctor, perhaps you should find someone else to mentor her?” Spock suggested. “It could be that you are starting to influence her. She seemed quite sensible to me when I met her.” Spock smirked and took his leave, with McCoy scowling after him. 

“Sir, I’ve seen this happen before. This isn’t a woman who’s been nursin’ for years, she’s fresh out of school. If you can call what she went to a proper school. She’s probably here just to find herself a husband, and then I’ll be right back where I started, havin’ to train a new assistant from the ground up, all over again. I’ve got enough work just trying to keep the whole damn post from fallin’ apart, I can’t keep playin’ nursemaid to trainees on top of it. No, uh, pun intended.”

“What’s the matter, Bones?” Kirk asked, smiling. “Don’t you trust yourself?”

McCoy said nothing, just rolled his eyes at Kirk’s implication. The colonel should know better than to ask that. McCoy trusted himself just fine in terms of physical self-control. He just didn’t see why this grand experiment of bringing women into the Army’s medical ranks had to happen in his infirmary - or why this poor nurse should have to be stuck with him as her first CO, for that matter. He didn’t exactly have the best track record with women - he was a divorcée after all - and a decade of living around soldiers and women whose company you paid for didn’t do a whole lot for a man’s social skills.

“Bones, you wanted help, I got you some help. And this isn’t just any nurse off the street. She comes highly recommended by none other than Christine Chapel herself. I know you at least respect her judgment.” Kirk reached up and patted McCoy’s shoulder reassuringly. “Give it a few months, Bones. I do insist that you at least give her a try.”

McCoy sighed, knowing he was defeated, and poured himself a shot. If it had been up to him, he would have put this attractive girl right back on the Sunset train to where she’d come from. It wasn’t, though, and for now at least, he was just going to have to find a way to keep her in line.

“Alright, Jim,” he sighed. “You win. I’ll do what I can.”

“Attaboy, Bones. Now let’s go get Spock back and start our game.”


	3. Checkmate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Reader makes a new friend who helps her strategize.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content note: minor gun-related injury and reference to Reader’s husband’s passing.

As the days went by, you settled in, starting with getting your clock fixed. Fortunately, the volume of work at the infirmary made the time go faster, and before you knew it, a month had gone by.

You started getting used to your CO’s idiosyncrasies, if not enjoying his occasional outbursts, at least anticipating what would lead to one and getting more accustomed to his management style. Fortunately, his bark seemed to be worse than his bite, and for all his bluster, you could tell he did care about his patients.

In the meantime, you worked hard to find friends and allies where you could, finding common ground with the staff in the telegraph office, the laundry, the chaplain’s office, and everywhere else your duties and interests took you during your off-hours. Not that you had many of those - Enterprise wasn’t large, but there was still plenty for you to do.

You couldn’t help but notice, though, that anything more serious than a sniffle seemed to be restricted to McCoy’s care. Initially, you thought it might be patient preference - maybe some of the men didn’t want a woman knowing about their venereal disease - but when the first month came to a close and the biggest crisis you’d treated was a case of mild dehydration, you knew there was more to it than that.

Of course, suggesting this to McCoy was met with a dismissive snort, and you really didn’t want to go above his head. As the weeks went on, though, you became more and more frustrated that you’d studied so hard only to wind up relegated to mostly administrative duties and fetching coffee refills. Not that you were too proud for that type of work, but you had the training to do more, and it irked you especially to see the person whose job it actually was - Cpl. Farrell - smugly loafing around.

“It’s so frustrating,” you admitted to Nyota Uhura one day over lunch. Nyota, a civilian, managed the post’s telegraph office and was its chief operator, and due to your shared experience of being the only two women on the post in professional positions (not to mention in fields traditionally filled by men), the two of you had quickly become friends.

“It’s odd,” she said, topping off her coffee and offering you a refill. “McCoy can definitely be moody, but usually he’s more of a gentleman than you describe. Especially with the ladies. I’ve never known him to be intentionally harsh. Maybe you just have a way with him,” she winked.

“Yeah, well that’s easy for you to say, you don’t have to work right under him.”

“True,” she laughed. “Although when you put it that way....” she winked.

“Oh, ugh, thanks for that image,” you exclaimed. She laughed.

“A lot of these men come here with funny notions about what can and can’t be done by women. You wouldn’t believe what I had to go through with Kirk’s predecessor,” she shook her head. “If you ask me, what you need is just an opportunity to prove yourself.”

“Sure, but how am I supposed to get that when—”

“He takes long lunches, doesn’t he?” she said, smiling coyly. “Just be on duty when he’s not.”

“I don’t want to get him in trouble or have him think I’m trying to be insubordinate, though. What if he complains to Kirk? They’re pretty tight.”

“What’s he going to do, complain that you were doing your job? Or that he was too busy drinking to do his?” she laughed.

“Okay, good point. But—”

“But nothing. Look, Y/N, I know McCoy. He’s salty, but he’s not unreasonable. Try it and see if things don’t improve. Starting tomorrow, instead of having lunch with me, eat in the infirmary. Someone’s bound to come by when he’s not there. Can’t be too much worse than status quo, can it?”

It _was_ a good plan, and it didn’t take long to pay off. The next morning, when McCoy left for lunch, you lingered behind. Before long, you heard footsteps and Farrell’s squeaky voice from the front room protesting that the doctor was at lunch and they’d need to come back.

You got up to investigate. It was two young soldiers, one with a splotch of blood on the shoulder of his uniform, and the other a look of panic on his face. You hadn’t been there long, but it didn’t take a genius to recognize a case of friendly fire.

Normally, anything involving a gun wound required the attention of the surgeon, but you could at least check them out. Especially the other soldier — he had a gray tone to his complexion that you didn’t like at all.

“Thanks, Farrell,” you said. “Please bring them back here.”

“We should wait until the doctor gets here.”

That could be hours, you thought, but you didn’t say it. “The doctor just left for lunch and he’s bleeding. Bring him back.”

“But Dr. McCoy—”

“Do as I ask,” you interrupted. “If the doctor has a problem with it, he can take it up with me.” You sat the bleeding soldier on one exam table and had Farrell assist you in maneuvering the other into a supine position with his feet elevated. “Now please go get me a cold washcloth and some Bundt cake from the front room. When you’ve done that, get me their records.”

“I don’t have to do none of that,” he said sullenly.

“Fine, when this E2 faints again, I’ll be sure and tell Dr. McCoy it was YOU who refused to do anything for him.”

Farrell opened his mouth to protest, but quickly realized you were serious. Frowning, he went back out the door.

You turned back to the soldiers. First things first — you went to investigate the arm wound, which as you’d suspected was superficial. It looked like the bullet had grazed him. “What’s your name, private?” you asked?

“McGoff, ma’am. And that there’s Wismer.”

“Ahh. Looks like someone got a little too close to the target practice?” you smiled.

He nodded.

“It happens,” you reassured him. “Next time stay on the right side of the barricades. They’re there for a reason.”

You dressed McGoff’s wound and provided him with a stick of candy from your handbag. He looked at you in surprise. “Ma’am?”

“I’m going to need you to wait for a few minutes until the doctor gets in,” you explained, knowing that in addition to any records Farrell provided, he’d also be fetching McCoy. “Protocol. But that should make your wait more pleasant.”

With McGoff comfortable, you turned your attention to Wismer, who was by now propped up on his elbow eating the cake, the color slowly returning to his cheeks. “Feeling better now?” you asked.

“Yes, thanks. How did you know I fainted?” he asked.

“I know the look,” you said, smiling a bit ruefully. Your husband had had occasional fainting spells — “vasovagal syncope” was the term you recalled. They hadn’t been serious, just uncomfortable, but they _had_ been a symptom of the chronic issues that had eventually claimed his life. You shook your head, forcing yourself to focus on the patient at hand.

“You were one of the men who transferred here after Guadalupe Canyon, weren’t you?” you asked quietly. His paperwork said 19, but the poor kid looked at least 3 years younger than that, and there was a decent chance he was. Frontier Army outposts like these weren’t uncommon destinations for “wayward youths,” and many times all it took to end up with a rifle in one’s hand was being an orphan and putting your trust in the wrong people.

“Is something wrong with me, nurse?”

“Well, I’ll need Dr. McCoy to take a look at you, too, before you’re cleared to go,” you said. “But between you and me, my prescription would be rest and maybe a visit to Chaplain Solow when you’re up to it. I think you’ll find him easy to talk to and very kind. Sometimes just talking about what’s on your mind can do a world of good. As far as the fainting itself, some bodies just react differently than others. Just keep an eye on it and let us know if it happens again.”

The door opened then and McCoy walked in, a petulant-looking Farrell trailing behind him with a “you’re going to get it now” look on his face. McCoy merely nodded, though, and listened while you gave him your notes. You left him with the patients, catching a whiff of metabolizing booze on your way out.

You couldn’t confirm why, but after that day, things changed, and he started involving you more in the day-to-day casework of the infirmary.

What you didn’t know, and he wouldn’t tell until some time after that, was that he had heard the majority of your conversation with the patients from outside the door, not to mention Farrell’s diatribe about how you’d spoken to him, and realized he’d been completely wrong in his earlier speculations. You weren’t here as a means to another end, nor did you want to antagonize him personally. You were here, just as he was, simply to practice medicine. McCoy knew better than anyone that coddling feelings and even respecting the chain of command were secondary concerns if someone’s well-being was at stake. He realized for the first time he’d been allowing his own biases and personal history to influence his treatment of you and felt ashamed. Chapel had made a good call - you were everything he could really ask for in an assistant. He had a feeling you might also make a good friend.


	4. Two Steps Back

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> McCoy’s past shiz-talking comes back to haunt him. Oops.

The early fall brought with it slightly cooler temperatures and heavier-than-usual rain, both of which provided some relief from the desert heat.

The change of seasons seemed to be helping your CO’s mood somewhat, too. He could still be grumpy, particularly before he’d had his coffee (the daily procurement of which had been reassigned back to Farrell, you’d noticed), but he was at least treating you with what seemed like a fair bit more consideration. This, coupled with the friends you had made around the post and the reputation you were starting to build for providing care, was going a long way toward making Ft. Enterprise feel like an actual home. Although you still had to field plenty of McCoy’s sarcasm, you were starting to think the worst of it was well behind you. There were even times you dished some back and got a smile out of him.

And then one day you happened to be in the storage closet checking inventory when no one thought you were around and overheard something you almost wished you hadn’t.

“And you know I hate to risk one of your ‘I told you so’s,’ but that nurse you gave me isn’t so bad after all,” you heard McCoy say. “I think she may just work out.”

“Well, good!” you heard Kirk say. “I’m glad to hear it, Bones. Maybe she’ll wait a couple more months before leaving you for the bridal gown and the bassinet, eh?” Both men laughed.

“Haha, may- _be_ ,” McCoy replied jovially. “Stranger things have happened, that’s for sure.” The two of them headed out the door and toward the mess.

You sat down on a low cabinet, processing what you’d just overheard. So, your boss and his boss had been assuming you were here for your M.R.S. certification, not to work. That explained a lot. It wasn’t an unusual assumption, and you’d been cautioned about it several times by your mentors at the nursing college, but that didn’t make it sting any less, especially since, in a sense, it was getting married that had landed you here in the first place. It was also tremendously disappointing to realize that you’d been letting yourself believe your boss was starting to respect you as an actual peer when obviously nothing was further from the truth.

You’d put up with a lot during your time at Ft. Enterprise - ridiculous heat, scorpions in your sheets, and not least an obnoxious CO - but to know that despite your work ethic and the strong professional rapport you’d built with the enlisted men, you were apparently a running joke among the top brass was just a bridge too far.

Dinner could wait. You headed back to your quarters, where you wasted no time digging out a sheet of stationery and a pen. Sitting down, you penned a letter to Superintendent Chapel requesting a change of post. You hated to give up, especially when you’d invested so much of yourself here, and you really hated to disappoint her, but it had been months now and it wasn’t really getting any better. If being around soldiers for all this time had taught you anything, it was how to tell when a battle wasn’t winnable. The Army might be ready to move into the 20th century, but McCoy clearly wasn’t ready for this kind of change, and despite how “progressive” Chapel seemed to think he was, you were getting the feeling that neither was Kirk.


	5. Hitting the Road

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While Kirk, Spock, and McCoy plan a rescue mission, the Reader plans for her own departure.

“So, what did you want to talk to us about, Jim?” McCoy asked. It was Friday morning, and he and Spock were seated in Kirk’s office, the ubiquitous pot of coffee on the desk in front of them. “Must be pretty important, you haven’t even touched your arbuckle’s.”

“It’s Judson,” Kirk said. “You know the guy I’m talking about?”

McCoy and Spock exchanged a look and exhaled tiredly. “What’s he done now?” McCoy replied.

Unfortunately, for every dozen or so Pvt. Wismers, who found within the walls of a frontier fort the structure and camaraderie to forge a new life for themselves, there was a case like Paul Judson, an unrepentant criminal who had avoided a prison sentence by enlisting and, to the surprise of absolutely no one who knew him, completely failed to respond positively to either mentoring or discipline.

There had long been rumors of gold on the Yavapai land near Fort Belden, Enterprise’s nearest neighboring post. They were dubious at best, but every few years, the Tribe had to deal with fortune hunters invading their territory and even settlements in search of a quick buck.

This time it was worse than usual. Within a few months of arriving at Belden, Judson had found similar malcontentment in the quartermaster’s assistant and the post surgeon, Simms, and had convinced them to accompany him on a fortune-hunting expedition deep into the heart of the Verde Valley. The next morning, Belden’s CO, General Herbert, had awoken to three AWOLs, including his CMO, and the very real possibility of the first war with the Tribe in well over a decade.

The general wasted no time in sending a wire to Ft. Enterprise asking if some personnel could be spared — both men for a trackdown party and medical staff to take over until a more permanent replacement surgeon arrived. Shortly after Reveille, Kirk had Spock and McCoy in his office, discussing the particulars, like who else to bring along.

“Jim, don’t you think we should take Y/LN as well?”

“Why, Bones? There shouldn’t be that big of a caseload over there. You ought to be able to manage.”

“Well, we don’t know that yet, Jim, and anyway, it’s not just men over there. A lot of the officers have families, plus heaven knows if Judson will take any hostages. I’ve, uh...I’ve observed Y/LN as she treats the patients. She has a way with the younger ones, the weaker, scared ones, you know what I mean. She reaches them in a way I don’t. Having her there could make it a lot easier for them. Not to mention the women might be more comfortable talking to another female if they’re having problems of that nature.”

“Alright, Bones,” Kirk replied with a smile. He suspected there was a little more to it than that, but he knew his CMO well enough to leave it alone. You happened to walk down the hall just then, and he called you in.

“Nurse Y/LN,” Kirk called. “Would you come in for a moment? We have a matter we’d like to discuss. Close the door after you, please.”

“Sir?” You knew it couldn’t be good news if you were being asked to close the door.

“I don’t mean to alarm you, but we’re trying to keep this from blowing up and causing any ruckus. It’s one of the men at Ft. Belden. Cpl. Paul Judson. He’s gone off the deep end. Crossed into Tribal territory on some harebrained gold hunt. The chief is a friend of mine, and he’s willing to give him up into our custody for a guarantee he’ll be brought to justice. We’re sending troops out to bring him back. Trouble is, he’s convinced Belden’s surgeon to go with him, so they need a doctor, too.”

“Okay,” you said. “No problem. I’ll see that Dr. McCoy’s things are packed. Is there anything else?” It may have been selfish, considering what the Yavapai were having to deal with, but you couldn’t say you minded the idea of having a few days to yourself, or at least of only Farrell’s griping to deal with.

“I’ll need an assistant to go as well,” McCoy spoke up. “In case he’s done anything even more remarkably stupid than usual.”

“Okay,” you nodded. All the better, you thought. “I’ll get Farrell set up as well. Will he be needing—”

McCoy rolled his eyes. “I wasn’t talking about Farrell, Y/LN,” he interrupted. “I was talking about you.” He had no idea what had gotten into you over the past couple of weeks, but he’d noticed a distinct change in the dynamic between you, and he couldn’t say he much liked it. It was nothing he could put his finger on, and nothing he could write you up for, but your coolness (and not knowing the reason for it) disturbed him. It felt like being married again, and that definitely wasn’t something he’d enjoyed.

“Me?”

“Yes, you. I need a properly trained nurse, not an orderly. Now it’s rough terrain out there, so I suggest you wear something more practical than that uniform dress. If you don’t have anything, the quartermaster can probably get you some britches. And get yourself some real shoes. If we have to do any real walking, I don’t want your heel fallin’ off and slowin’ us down.”

Well, so much for your vacation. “Yes, sir,” you replied.

“Thank you, nurse,” Kirk said. “Get plenty of rest tonight. We’ll be leaving at dawn. By the way, if you don’t mind - you’re friends with Miss Uhura. When you pass by the telegraph office, please have her wire Herbert back that we’re on our way.”

“Will do, sir.”

You headed out to the courtyard, your mind still blown by your new assignment. On one hand, it was nice to be recognized and treated as though essential, but on the other, this also meant several days of hard riding through the middle of nowhere with these two-faced assholes at your side. And who knew what craziness you’d find when you got to Belden. You’d heard stories about both Simms and Judson, and they made your boss sound like Prince Charming.

There was one bright spot in all of this, though. You’d gotten a letter from Chapel that morning notifying you of an availability at a smaller post in southern Montana. It was a long way away and the winters were famously harsh, but there was a town closer by, so there might at least be more women around. Plus, you’d be free of the blue-eyed menace. Both factors meant you could possibly be taken seriously for a change. You’d planned to tell the colonel and McCoy as soon as possible, but maybe it could wait until you got back. For the rest of the day, though, you focused on that happy news, feeling that everything was much more bearable now that you had a time limit on how much longer you had to endure it.


	6. Change of Plans

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is a shorty and more of a setup for the next chapter. McCoy continues to be a dingus, but he gets better soon.

The travel party to Ft. Belden departed, as Kirk had planned, first thing the next morning.

Unfortunately, you and McCoy were not part of that group. You had been ready promptly at 6:00 a.m. as requested, but the doctor was not, and based on Spock’s innuendo, you surmised that he’d had another late night with Mr. Walker. The colonel was impatient to get on the road and requested that you stay behind to accompany your CO.

Sure enough, around 6:45, McCoy finally appeared, smelling strongly of coffee beans and hangover. He nodded to you briskly. “Where is everybody else?”

“They’re on the road already,” you shrugged. “The colonel requested that I stay behind and ride with you.”

“Well, that’s just grand,” he grumbled, a little embarrassed and also annoyed at your continued coolness. “If he’d wanted me to get there fast, he should have just let me go alone.” He looked you up and down. “Is that what you’re wearing?” he asked, squinting.

You’d been rather proud of your travel outfit. Your efforts to make friends around the post had definitely provided some advantages. In addition to the britches your boss had suggested, the quartermaster had provided you with a plain midi-length skirt, a riding corset, and some taller, rather shapeless men’s boots. You briefly considered informing McCoy that no, you’d planned to throw on a clown suit for the ride out, but thought better of it and just nodded.

McCoy nodded. “It’ll do,” he grunted as he mounted up.

If he was like this at coffee’s first buzz, you thought, this did not bode well for the rest of the ride.  
  


~~~~~

Your journey through the desert was uneventful, and you were actually making good time until you got to the Verde River, about halfway to your destination.

Normally, this section of the river was shallower and relatively calm, and crossing on horseback, or even in a wagon, wasn’t that big of an issue. But it was now late autumn of a wet year, and the water was deeper than usual. Even at the most shallow point, it would be hitting at least knee-deep on horseback. Contrary to McCoy’s evaluation of you that first day, you were really a city girl. Riding astride in a man’s saddle was one thing, but fording a river like a pioneer woman was well outside your area of expertise. There was no avoiding it, though; you had to get across, and it sounded like this was as easy as it was going to get. Sighing, you got ready to follow his lead.

As expected, you’d gotten barely a few meters out before your horse stumbled on a slick rock and you fell in, taking most of your things down with you. Fortunately, you knew how to swim, and you managed to find your footing and lead your horse across while balancing the less soaked bag on your head. You were pretty damn impressed with yourself until you got to the shore and saw the look on McCoy’s face, which was a mixture of “That’s the best you can do?” and “I can’t take you anywhere.” You did your best to return his glare with one that said, “Nice of you to help” and led your horse up onto the riverbank, both of you now soaking wet and fairly pissed off.

Heaving a sigh, your CO looked at you and looked around, then said, “I guess we’ll camp here tonight.”


	7. Shields Down

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Finally, the Reader is able to get some stuff off her chest.

Both the clothes you’d been wearing and your spare set had been submerged when you’d fallen into the river, so you’d fashioned a sort of drying rack out of dried cholla and set them by the fire. Thankfully, you’d managed to mostly salvage the bag with your nightgown, and it was only a bit damp around the hem. Not only was it chilly out here, but the idea of sitting around naked with McCoy glowering at you was hardly appealing.

Unfortunately, the same could not be said for your bedding, which was still not dry enough to be usable.

You’d been hoping McCoy’s usual grouchiness might just be due to the monotony of the fort, and that the change of scenery and fresh air might lift his mood a bit. That didn’t seem to be the case, unfortunately. You and he had spent the last hour of sunlight setting up camp while he groused about how Kirk and Spock were probably comfortable in bed while he was stuck out in the middle of nowhere with you, and you focused on thoughts of bison, the great northern plains, and whatever else reminded you of Montana to avoid the urge to clobber him.

You’d had just about all the southern charm you cared to take at this point, so when McCoy heaved a large sigh and suggested you share his bed to keep warm, you responded pretty much by reflex with a laugh and “Thanks, but no thanks.”

“What, are you going to just sleep on the hard ground in that thin nightgown?” he asked. “Doesn’t seem exactly smart, nurse.”

“Well, that’s just par for the course with me, isn’t it sir?” you said. “Sleep tight!”

“It’s cold out here, Y/LN,” he said, and you could practically feel his eyeroll just from his tone. “As a doctor, I can tell you the human body doesn’t do well sleeping in freezing cold temperatures. I really recommend you come over by me. The extra body heat—”

“And as a formally educated nurse, in case you’ve forgotten,” you replied, “I know well enough to not lie down with snakes.” It was cold as ice in Siberia out here, but you could only imagine what would be said around the poker table if you took him up on this offer.

“Nurse, I know I’m probably not your favorite person at the post,” he said. “And who knows, there may even be a reason for that—”

“ _May_ be a reason?” you asked, trying and failing to keep the sarcasm out of your voice. You took a deep breath. “Permission to speak freely?” He nodded.

“Sir, since I got here four months ago, you’ve gone out of your way to remind me at every opportunity that I’m exactly not the assistant you’d wanted. I’m not organized enough, I’m not knowledgeable or intelligent enough...I’m not _male_ enough. And I could deal with that, no problem. I could even deal with you standing there and acting put out while I tried not to drown in a river we only had to cross here because you couldn’t be bothered to stop drinking at a decent hour last night.”

You saw the anger rise to his face at that, but no way were you stopping your rant until you got the most important part out.

“What I can _not_ get over is you going around telling the entire post that the only reason I’m here is to find some man to latch onto. You undermine me constantly at the fort and try to get me drowned out here, and now you have the nerve to lecture _me_ about my well-being? How about you start by acting like the mentor you say you are instead of my worst enemy?”

McCoy’s entire expression changed, and for once, he actually looked ashamed. “How did you know about that?”

“What, you think it’s a big secret? I overheard you and the colonel joking about it a couple weeks ago, and it explains a whole lot about how some of the men, especially the officers, treat me.”

“How do you mean?” he asked, looking actually concerned.

“Like there’s no need to take me seriously because I’m just looking for a meal ticket and I won’t be here long. Even that little weasel Farrell - _especially_ him. I deal with his shit all day, every time your back is turned. Not that you don’t probably encourage it when I’m not there.”

“I’m sorry, nurse,” McCoy said, sounding surprisingly sincere. “I...didn’t realize. Why didn’t you say something?”

“And have you blow me off while telling Kirk I can’t fight my own battles? No thanks, I know how that goes.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means, sir, that your idea of handling disciplinary issues seems to be looking for the answer at the bottom of a bottle and then complaining to Kirk when nothing changes.”

“Nurse!” His blue eyes flashed and you knew you were edging on insubordination now, but you couldn’t help yourself.

“No, no, it’s okay,” you said. “It’s no problem. I’ve already put in for a transfer. I was going to wait until after we got back to tell you and the colonel, but I’m resigning my post after the holidays. Soon as we get back, you can get started training my replacement. You’ll probably want to alert Chapel as soon as possible, though, she might try to send you another assistant in a skirt,” you said sarcastically.

“And where are you planning to go?” he asked.

“She found me a post in Billings,” you said.

“You’re shivering your ass off here, and you want to move to Montana in January,” he asked, laughing.

“Fuck. You.” you shouted, past caring that he was your CO at this point.

“Y/LN!” he snarled, straightening up the same way he did when Spock challenged him. Then, to your shock, his face softened. “Y/LN, I’m sorry. I, uh. I guess I deserved that. Probably a lot more for what I’ve put you through. For what it’s worth, I only said that bit about the husband to Kirk. Well...and Spock. It was right after you got here. I shouldn’t have made that assumption, and I found out very quickly how wrong I was, and uh, they like to tease me about it.” He looked down. “You’re right, I haven’t been much of a mentor to you at all, and I’m sorry. I don’t know what my problem is.” (This wasn’t exactly true, he thought. Deep down, he knew exactly why he’d been rougher with you, but he figured that reason was probably the last thing you wanted to hear from him, especially right now.)

You shrugged. “It doesn’t matter,” you said. “It’s water under the bridge.”

“No, it’s not. You’re a hell of an assistant, and a far better nurse than that little fort deserves. And if you’re going to be leaving, I really don’t want our parting gift to you to be pneumonia because it _is_ freezing out here. So please, if it’ll make you feel safer, I’ll sleep over here and you can have my blankets. Y/LN?”

You looked up, and your heart softened a little despite yourself. He really did look contrite, even worried.

“Thank you for the offer, sir,” you said finally. “In all fairness, though -” he opened his mouth to protest and you gulped, not believing you were about to say this “- you’re probably right about the body heat. Just...please don’t try anything. Or tell my mother, she’d kill me.”

He smiled and made a zipping motion at his mouth while holding open his blankets, and you squeezed in next to him and rested your head on his folded-up coat. As promised, it really was much better than the bare ground, and you warmed right up with him next to you. He was surprisingly comfortable for such a thin man. You would have expected more angles and elbows, but what you felt instead was a warm, solid curve of muscle gently cradling you. An “mmmmm” escaped you unintentionally, and you froze and cringed until you felt a strong arm wrap around you over the blanket.

“Comfy?” he asked.

“Yeah.” As much as you hated to admit it, this wasn’t at all bad.

“Is my arm okay there?” His accent was noticeably thicker, causing him to pronounce the word “arum.” It was probably from sleepiness, but it sent a little rush through you nonetheless.

“Yeah, it’s fine. Good night, sir.”

“Good night, Y/LN,” he said. “Uhh, by the way, I don’t know who besides Farrell and me has been givin’ you grief, but I don’t care if it’s the colonel himself - next time that happens, let me know and I’ll take care of it. Hell, I should flog Farrell anyway, the little weasel deserves it.”

“Okay, thanks, sir,” you smirked. “Good night.”

“G’night, Y/LN.”

He closed his eyes, glad you’d taken him up on his offer but also noticing a strange hollow feeling. It took him a moment before it really sank in why: he may have won this battle, but you were still leaving.


	8. Change of Scenery*

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kirk finds what he was looking for at Ft. Belden, McCoy finds something he could do without, and the Reader gets both.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I slapped one asterisk on here for handsy!Bones at the beginning.

When you woke at daybreak, the first thing you noticed was how cold it had gotten overnight. A very thin layer of frost had formed on the outside of the wool blankets, and you could see the steam of your breath each time you exhaled. It was easily only a few degrees above freezing.

The second thing you noticed was the impressive erection pressing right up against the small of your back.

You weren’t unfamiliar with the “morning-wood” concept, having been married previously, but it still shocked you a little not only to feel this part of your CO but also that he would be this apparently well endowed. Against your better judgment, but to satisfy your curiosity, you wiggled a little bit from side to side to confirm your estimate. Your efforts were rewarded with a firm grasp of his hand at your breast as he pressed himself up against you. Your eyes widened as you felt scruffy lips nuzzling your neck, and he continued to caress your chest while murmuring incoherently and rutting his thick hard-on persuasively against your backside. You weren’t scared or offended, but it was still bizarre to wake up this way, especially considering that for an unconscious man, he wasn’t bad with his hands. Softly, he groaned your name.

“Y/LN!” he startled, realizing where he was and whom he was with.

“Morning, sir,” you said, trying to stifle a snicker.

“How...what...was I...when did you...Oh, never mind. Come on. We should, ah, get on the road.”

“Yes, sir,” you replied, biting your lip in an effort to keep your expression serious. After an incredibly awkward half-hour or so, you were packed, dressed, and back on the trail, forgoing coffee and anything else that might have necessitated conversation or eye contact.  
  


~~~~~

The two of you rode along mostly in silence. McCoy was still deeply embarrassed about how grabby he’d gotten earlier that morning. Even though he’d been asleep, it was incredibly unprofessional, and he cringed to think how revolted you probably were.

What made it much worse was the dream he’d been having. In it, you’d been having one of your typical sarcastic interactions in the infirmary, but instead of resolving things the way you had the previous night, or the way you typically did, with tense silence, it had led to a very different method of conflict resolution, one that involved you pushing him back onto a cot and performing a very thorough checkup on him until he’d stopped complaining and had started grabbing your hips and showing you exactly what he needed. Had it not been for hearing himself mutter your last name, he probably would have started voicing out loud the filthy questions he’d been asking you, and quite possibly would have even finished right against you. He knew it was at least partly due to the way you’d stood up to him the previous night, not to mention the memories of what he’d seen when you’d stumbled up onto the riverbank soaking wet, that lower-cut shirt and shorter skirt clinging to your form and showing a whole lot more than your usual prim, pressed grey Nurse Corps uniform did.

He hadn’t even realized you’d fallen in - the river was loud and he hadn’t heard the splash - and by the time he’d turned around, you were already staggering out, soaking wet and quite visibly cold.

He’d frowned in disapproval then, mostly because the only other things that came to mind were to whistle in admiration or gawk like a teenager, and neither option would have been helpful. He’d realized a few seconds too late that the appropriate response would have been to offer to help you, but by that time you were busy wringing out your skirt and scowling. Not that he could blame you. What kind of southern gentleman was so oblivious he’d let a woman almost drown?

Now, as he watched you ride along, that shirt and skirt finally dry enough to be wearable again, he wasn’t sure whether to thank or curse himself for recommending you wear something more comfortable. At least he was riding alongside you rather than behind, where he’d be compelled to look at your shapely ass all day as it swayed back and forth in the saddle. Dammit, he thought. The next time the colonel invited him to town, he really needed to go. It had been far too long since he’d had the company of a woman, and it might be worth risking a case of full-blown calamity to avoid making an ass of himself in situations like this.  
  


~~~~~

After several hours and a few shortcuts, you finally caught up to the rest of the party at Fort Belden. Kirk and the rest of the line officers were busy meeting with the general, planning the search party to the Verde Valley. You and McCoy took a few minutes to put your things down in your rooms and freshen up.

The buildings at this fort were quite different from the ones of Ft. Enterprise; where your post resembled a sort of log cabin village, the buildings here were made of adobe, with tile roofs. You liked it immediately; the structures reminded you quite a bit of where you’d grown up in Los Angeles. That coupled with the greener landscape in this part of the territory made you almost wish you’d signed on here to begin with. Then you remembered why you were there and reckoned that sandstorms and scorpions were probably still preferable to having to treat people like Paul Judson and his merry band of miscreants.

After a few minutes, you met your CO back in the courtyard, where he was catching up with Kirk, Spock, and a tall, husky officer with a comically large mustache.

“Y/LN!” Kirk greeted you. “Colonel Harcourt, I’d like you to meet the newest addition to Ft. Enterprise’s infirmary, Nurse Y/N Y/LN. She recently came to us from the University of Southern California. Nurse, this is Col. Fenton Harcourt, first officer at Ft. Belden.”

“Well, ah declare!” Harcourt said, revealing a heavy southern accent and affinity for bullshit, “do my ahs deceive me or could this be the very goddess Panacea herself?” He bowed deeply and kissed your hand.

You glanced over at your colonel, not quite sure if this was intended as a legitimate compliment or severe condescension; seeing the “Just go with it” look on Kirk’s face, you estimated it was the former and managed a, “Pleased to meet you, too, sir?”

“I am so pleased to make your acquaintance, ma’am. It would give me great pleasure to escort such a distinguished, noble lady to our humble little infirmareh.” He held out his arm for you.

Oh, for pity’s sake, another southern gent, you thought. No sooner had you crossed the Colorado River than they seemed to be everywhere. You already had just about all the down-home hospitality you needed from your CO. Putting on your most convincing insincere smile, though, you thanked Harcourt and politely accepted his offer, tentatively taking his arm and letting him lead you in the direction of the infirmary. As he rambled on about his great privilege of being allowed to walk with you and some magnificent bullshit about Florence Nightingale, you made a mental note to ask McCoy when you had a chance whether this guy was typically so effusive.

You happened to look over at McCoy at that moment, who was walking with you, expecting a smirk or his usual nonspecific frown, as though he knew somewhere in the world something wasn’t up to snuff and he couldn’t enjoy life until it was. To your surprise, though, this time he was looking directly at your escort, his face was red, and he looked actively pissed off. Had you missed something, or did these two have some kind of history, you wondered.

No sooner did the three of you reach the threshold of the post infirmary than McCoy interrupted Harcourt. “Sir, if you’ll excuse us, there’s a lot of work to do here,” he said, barely hiding his irritation.

“Of course, Doctor. My apologies for going on so, but it isn’t evereh day we have such a lovely and brilliant creature as Miss Y/LN here visit our post.” He tipped his hat at you with a flourish and a wink. “My regards again, ma’am. I do hope we meet again soon.”

“Tacky buffoon,” McCoy grumbled under his breath as soon as Harcourt and his mustache were out of sight. “If these idiots spent half as much energy on running a base as they do on chasing skirts, we probably wouldn’t be here.”

It should have been clear to anyone who’d bothered to look that Lt. Simms, the post surgeon, had been a court martial waiting to happen. McCoy had his own shortcomings, to be sure, but the level of disorder in Belden’s infirmary was something else entirely, and you felt terrible for the people who’d had to be treated by a surgeon with this level of obvious nihilism. The supply of clean linen was low and there was almost no morphine on hand, but they did have an abundance of liquor. If there were any serious injuries, that would have to suffice for at least some of them.

The two of you worked hard, though, and before long, word had gotten around that there were once again medical staff at the post. By sundown, while Kirk, Spock, and the others were tracking down the missing men, you and McCoy had your hands full with patients.

Fortunately, there were no serious issues. There was the usual assortment of abrasions, dental complaints, and dehydration, and at one point the second day, you specifically were called off to an officer’s cabin to attend a wife having her first baby. You couldn’t help but reflect on how different and affirming it felt to be singled out as a care provider, and how you might expect to be treated that way at a post with more women, like Billings.

By the time you returned to the infirmary that evening, McCoy couldn’t help but notice the change in your countenance and the happy glow in your eyes, and he wasn’t sure whether to attribute it more to the work or possibly to your irritating admirer from earlier. He didn’t particularly like either possibility. Either one just further drove home the point that you’d be moving on soon, and as understandable as your decision was, he still found his mind repeatedly wandering to ways he might try to change yours.

Dammit, stop it, he thought to himself. Taking a deep breath, he forced those thoughts out of his mind. It wasn’t fair of him to expect you to stay. Even if he had been kinder and easier to get on with, a small, remote fort full of men wasn’t even close to the best opportunity for a nurse with the potential he saw in you. What could he really hope to offer but obscurity and a lifetime of dealing with his baggage? Taking the flask out of his pocket, he poured himself his first shot of the night. He’d never had a regret or sorrow yet that couldn’t be shut up, at least temporarily, with enough whiskey, and he saw no reason that had to change now.


	9. One Good Turn Deserves Another

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> (Sorry for the horrible title pun.) Kirk sees an opportunity to help his friend by blabbing and can’t resist.

The final evening you were there, to celebrate the Judson party’s successful capture and the announcement of a new permanent post physician, the fort had an impromptu party. Belden wasn’t that much larger than Enterprise, but it was less isolated and more of the officers were married, so it was definitely more of a balanced crowd gender-wise. Something about your vocation seemed to spark more than the usual intrigue among both the men and women, though, and you found yourself the center of attention, a position you normally found awkward but did your best to meet gracefully.

One of the wives had been kind enough to lend you a more appropriate dress and some flowers from her garden, so for the first time in a long while, you looked fairly presentable, even nice. Between your last few days of work here and the friendly atmosphere, you were genuinely enjoying yourself.

There was one snag in all this, though — your CO. Every so often, you’d look over to see how he was doing, and he seemed to look progressively more uncomfortable and preoccupied. It wasn’t fatigue, and you knew Herbert had a dry policy at these events, so he probably wasn’t drunk. You sighed, figuring whatever was on his mind, you’d probably be hearing about it come morning.

Just then, an unctuous drawl next to you got your attention. “Why as ah live and breathe, is this the Lady Y/LN or a vision from Olympus standin’ before me?”

Oh hell, you thought, not this again. Summoning back your polite smile, you looked up. “Hello, Col. Harcourt.”

He bowed deeply, rubbing his bristly mustache on the back of your hand. “Ah would be truly honored to lead m’lady in the first dance?” he asked hopefully.

Great. If you had to get stuck listening to someone embarrass you in southern, why couldn’t it be the other one? You caught yourself mid-thought, then, a little surprised. Nodding politely, you accepted Harcourt’s sweaty hand.

  
~~~~~ 

“If it makes you so angry,” Kirk commented, walking up behind McCoy and cutting off his train of thought, “why not cut in? I know it’s not because you can’t dance.”

“What?” McCoy said, not having been aware he’d been being watched.

“You heard me. You’ve been staring at her for the last hour. Ask her to dance with you.”

“Oh, come on, Jim. Look at her. She’s having a grand time. She won’t want to interrupt that to hang around the same shabby faces she always sees, least of all mine.”

“Suit yourself, Bones,” the young colonel grinned. “But I don’t intend to be a wallflower. If you’ll excuse me?”

McCoy watched as Kirk headed over to cut in on your latest dance partner, a tall, handsome second lieutenant. Perfect, he thought. That should keep Kirk off his back at least for the moment being. Just another hour until he could politely retire with his flask and escape any more of the colonel’s uncomfortable questions or reminders about what a hopeless, lonely fool he was.

~~~~~

“May I cut in?”

You looked up to see your own Col. Jim Kirk standing beside you. Nodding politely to Lt. Phelps, you took the other man’s arm.

“Are you enjoying yourself, Y/N?” Kirk asked with a smile. It was a welcome surprise to be addressed by your first name and also to talk to a familiar face. The band started a slower song, and he began to lead you in a waltz.

“Very much, sir,” you said. “I didn’t expect to have so much fun at a trackdown.”

Kirk laughed. “You picked a good one to come along on. Usually, we end up staked out in a canyon dodging rattlesnakes for days on end.”

You nodded and laughed. “I do wish Dr. McCoy were enjoying himself more,” you mused.

“Oh?” Kirk raised an eyebrow at your concern.

“Is he alright?” you asked. “He’s been unusually quiet today, and he looks like he’s not feeling well.”

“I...wouldn’t worry about the doctor,” Kirk smiled. “I don’t think there’s anything afflicting him except maybe a certain green-eyed monster.”

“Sir?” you tilted your head, confused.

“Normally I wouldn’t get involved in my staff’s personal affairs,” Kirk said gently, “but I hate to lose a good man - or woman - for no reason. McCoy would kill me for saying this, but I think the doctor is suffering from a bit of heartsickness.”

The idea of your boss pining over anything but Old Kentucky struck you as slightly ludicrous, and you had to suppress a snicker. “Oh? Anyone I know?”

Kirk smiled. “Well, there are several theories, but the prevailing one is that it’s...his head nurse.”

“Me??” you sputtered, genuinely shocked. “No disrespect, sir, but I think you must be mistaken. He can barely stand the sight of me. I’d thought we’d finally smoothed things over a bit on the ride out, but I must’ve messed up again somewhere because he’s acting even more annoyed with me than usual.”

“You can’t always take McCoy at face value, Y/N,” Kirk said gently. “Take my word for it, there’s more going on here. I don’t expect you to put up with being treated poorly, and I don’t blame you for putting in for a transfer, but trust me, he’s not doing this because he dislikes you. Quite the opposite, in fact. He just doesn’t know how to approach it.”

“Why are you telling me this, sir?” you asked.

The music stopped then, and the audience applauded the band. Kirk thanked you for the dance and winked, walking back to Spock. You merely nodded, feeling rather speechless after what he’d just told you.

You made your way back to your quarters for the night, where you tried to get to sleep, but quickly found you had way too much on your mind. To begin with, how did Kirk know about your decision to transfer? McCoy must’ve said something, but when, and what else was said during that and other related conversations? You had noticed the colonel was unusually intuitive as far as his personnel went, but something had to have been said or done to make him so sure about it.

More importantly, what were you even supposed to do with this information? You hoped Kirk hadn’t meant to imply that he expected you to be receptive - or worse yet, to actually pursue McCoy - after all you’d been through. But then why tell you?

And then, the biggest question of all - how did you even feel about it? 


	10. After Midnight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Reader tells some truths to McCoy, and he lets some slip as well.

One of the perks of traveling with officers was typically access to better sleeping quarters than you might’ve had on your own. Gen. Herbert had decided the rooms over the infirmary needed a good cleaning before they’d be fit for human habitation, so he had put you and McCoy up in the transient officer housing in the main building. As the pitter-patter of rain started on the roof, you felt very glad to be in a watertight building for a change.

Despite your more comfortable than usual accommodations, you were still finding it extremely difficult to get to sleep. You were still far too preoccupied with what Kirk had divulged at the party and trying to sort through your feelings about it. You weren’t much for drinking usually, but it occurred to you that you’d seen a decanter full of some kind of liquor downstairs. By midnight, you were starting to get desperate, so you put on your slippers, grabbed the lamp, and quietly crept out.

Seeing a light at the end of the hallway, you decided to investigate. To your surprise, you found a familiar form — the silhouette of one Dr. Leonard McCoy, with the decanter in his hand and one long leg draped characteristically over the chair arm.

“I thought I heard something out here,” you said. “Sir, you’re still awake?”

He looked up at you through bleary eyes, and even in the dim light, you could see the redness and sarcastic expression. “Oh, you’re up late, m’dear,” he drawled, his accent thicker than usual courtesy of the drink. “You up sewin’ your trousseau for the good Col. Harcourt?”

“Sir,” you started, trying and failing to not roll your eyes.

“Oh, my mistake. Perhaps it’s one of the other 90 fine lads you danced with tonight. Or maybe our own Col. Kirk? Well, I suppose I should be happy for him, you’ll make at _least_ one of those men verrrry happy, I’m sure.”

You counted to five in your head, until the urge to punch him in the face had passed, and tried to think of something gracious to say, as your mother would have done. No such luck. You knew what emotion you were feeling about him now. You were pissed off. Even if he did have a crush, you hadn’t asked for that, and it was a shitty reason for him to be so insulting. “Well, shoot, doctor,” you said. “Maybe if you made yourself at all approachable, you could find yourself a companion as well.”

“Careful, nurse,” he growled, glaring at you through those bloodshot eyes. Apparently you’d hit a tender spot, though you didn’t know what he’d been expecting by more or less insinuating that you were going to sleep with the entire regiment.

“You don’t fancy that idea, sir? Do you prefer just sitting here alone all night, insulting other people’s attempts to make the best of things? Is that what does it for you?” You leaned against the wall, refusing to break eye contact despite his intimidating glare. You knew you could be overly direct when provoked and it would be better to rein it in, but you couldn’t quite resist prodding him further. Stepping forward and bending over slightly, you continued.

“No, that’s not it, is it? You’re afraid. You’re not scared of blood, or disease, or even death, but you’re _terribly_ afraid of letting someone get close to you. Why? What could you possibly be hiding that would necessitate you being so difficult to be around?”

“That, my dear, is none of your business,” he hissed contemptuously. “Maybe you’ll figure it out after you’ve left me-- after you’ve left and run off to Montana.” With that, he poured and drained yet another shot, slammed the glass on the table, and glared at you silently.

And there it was. He’d caught himself, but not quite in time to avoid tipping his hand. Your stomach clenched at the confirmation of Kirk’s words earlier, though you weren’t sure initially whether it was from the adrenaline of the argument or something else, something you weren’t sure you were quite ready to consider.

“Doctor,” you asked, fighting to keep your voice steady. “Do you...not want me to leave?”

“What kind of damn fool question is that,” he asked bitterly.

Taking a deep breath and summoning all your courage, you replied. “Permission to speak freely?”

“Ha, like that’s ever stopped you before.”

“Right.” You sat down. “I learned a while ago that if a person wants something, they need to do something about it. And if they don’t, that’s their choice, but they don’t get to be angry at someone else who does. Harcourt _is_ a tacky buffoon, and he’s insufferable to be honest, but I’ve been friendly to him because that’s the polite thing to do when somebody ASKS. And I’ll say something else - as obsequiously full of cow-pies as he is, sometimes it’s nice to be complimented instead of put down all the damn time.”

“Ohh, that’s what this is about,” he snorted, leaning forward and reaching for the decanter again. “You’ll do me the honor of staying and gracing me with your company if I bow and scrape properly.”

You sighed tiredly. “No, sir. I don’t want that. Just basic courtesy. Decency.”

“I am perfectly decent to you, nurse. I just don’t coddle you. I don’t coddle the colonel, either, so I don’t know why you should feel particularly entitled to—”

“Doctor, less than a minute ago, you insinuated that I was going to sleep with the ‘90 men’ I allegedly danced with tonight. You know what? Maybe I should start doing that. You manage to treat the laundresses at our post like ladies, and their ‘extra services’ are where we get half our patients. Maybe that’s what I need to do to get some very basic respect from you?” You raised an eyebrow as McCoy gaped in shock at your suggestion.

You look away and sighed, realizing that once again, you’d probably gone too far. And then you looked back and saw that for a moment, the mask had fallen, and the look he wore wasn’t anger or disgust, it was shame and regret. And then, as you looked at that face, you knew what that clenching in your stomach was. Oh, God help you. You knew.

Getting up, you covered his hand lightly with yours. Startled by your touch, he looked up at you. “Sir,” you said slowly and as calmly as you could, “you’re not the only one who has self-preservation instincts and you’re _also_ not the only person to ever feel lonely. Truth is, I like it at Enterprise, but I put in for a change of post because I’m just so tired of fighting with you and getting put down all the time. I’m not asking for special treatment — I never have — just a CO who doesn’t act like it’s his official mission to drive me away. I’d gladly stay if I thought that could change.”

With that, you gave his hand a small squeeze, picked up your lamp, and walked back to your room. You hadn’t gotten the alcohol you’d come out for, but you’d spoken your peace, and with some of your frustration off your chest, you were finally able to get some sleep.

For McCoy, though, the night was just beginning, as he tried to wrap his whiskey-soaked brain around all you’d just said to him, especially the implication that despite his behavior tonight, and all the things he’d said and done before that, you were still willing to stay. And that even more than that, there was a hint that you might even be willing to give him a chance.


	11. Understanding**

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> McCoy makes up an excuse to travel alone with the Reader again, and things take a very different turn.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Per the **, this is smutty. Possible dubcon in that the Reader has had a few drinks. Consent on both sides is pretty enthusiastic, though. 
> 
> Also, from what info I could find, oral wasn’t super common in the 1890s U.S., which is to say...Old West Army!Bones is a kinky bitch, at least by Victorian standards. :)

With Judson and his party safely in custody and awaiting their court martial, most of your company was cleared to head back to Ft. Enterprise. Harcourt had insisted on going along on the pretense of wanting to see the Maxim machine gun the post had just acquired. McCoy, though, requested permission for the two of you to make the rounds once more before leaving to make sure all the patients were in good health, and also to check on the new baby, since the new surgeon was not due to arrive until that afternoon. You couldn’t say you really minded being spared 10 hours of florid flirting attempts, but this meant that you and McCoy once again got a later start than the rest of the party and weren’t on the road until well after 10.

As you set out down the trail, McCoy leaned over as though he wanted to tell you something very important. “Did you get a chance to say farewell to all your beaux properly?” he asked. The look you shot him was enough to convince him to shut his mouth. The two of you rode on in silence, speaking only when needed for a good several hours.

Dammit, McCoy thought. He needed to find a different approach, but he really had no idea what to use as a conversation opener. You’d been correct, of course, in just about everything. He did have a fear of intimacy — due primarily to an even stronger fear of rejection — and a bad tendency to try and cover it up by pushing people away before they could do so to him. Spending the last 15 years mostly among men and working ladies hadn’t exactly helped his social skills, either.

Eventually, he gave up on the idea of trying to say something charming — that ship had long since sailed — and figured he’d just try your advice of being decent. It probably wouldn’t be enough, but at least you might be able to part on tolerable terms. He missed you already, and he wondered why it had taken him so long to just admit to himself how much your being there had changed life at the fort for the better and how much he looked forward to seeing you each day. By fighting the feelings so hard and holding you at a distance, he’d hoped to avoid the heartache of being left again and the way he’d felt after his ex had walked out. In the end, though, all he’d done was ensure more of the same. And it was worse this time, because unlike Jocelyn, you had tried to be kind and helpful, and all he’d given you in return was frustration and insults. He wasn’t sure which was worse — having to explain to Kirk that he was the reason Enterprise was losing you, or the simple fact that you were going, and even if Chapel did send a replacement, he’d never find another Nurse Y/LN.

Eventually, the two of you spotted the river in the distance. It had rained out here, too, while you’d been at Ft. Belden, and you knew the river would be even higher than the last time you’d seen it. You cringed at the prospect of a repeat of the other night, but there was no way around it. Maybe you could swallow your pride and ask McCoy to take some of your things over with him, so at least you could have something dry to sleep on when you inevitably tumbled in.

McCoy must’ve sensed your thought process. “Y/LN, we have a little extra time now. I suggest we take the other route. It’ll add half a day, but we won’t have to go through that section of that river again. Does that sound agreeable to you?”

Five extra hours of awkward silence seemed like a fair price to pay to avoid being dry humped in your sleep again, so you nodded. Shortly before sundown, you came to a clearing with a small stream, where you set up camp for the night.

  
~~~~~

This second night in the wilderness was colder than the first. You had the advantage of being dry this time, but the air was now damper, and it felt like additional rainfall might be blowing in from the north. You sat down by the fire and fought down a shiver, not wanting to trigger any attempts at chivalry. Your efforts failed, though, and he draped a blanket around your shoulders. “Thanks,” you said. “Pity we didn’t bring tents.”

“I know. I might have something that could help, though,” he said, smiling.

“Mm?”

The doctor reached into his saddlebag and produced a bottle of tequila. “A gift to us from General Herbert, courtesy of Simms’ supply closet.”

“A gift to you, you mean.”

“No, you earned this just as much as I did. Just don’t tell the colonel.”

“What, Kirk doesn’t let his officers drink?” you asked, surprised.

“Oh, he lets us drink. He just wouldn’t approve of me giving it to a subordinate. Well, at least...”

“I know what you’re getting at, sir,” you smirked. Kirk probably wouldn’t appreciate a male senior officer giving his female assistant booze. “This is different, though, isn’t it? This is for ‘medicinal purposes.’”

“Uh oh, now you’re starting to sound like me,” he laughed.

“Well, if you’re going to get nasty about it,” you said, smiling.

He gave you a look of mock annoyance and poured you a shot. “Just shut up and drink, Y/LN.”

The stuff tasted like well-filtered turpentine, and you immediately started coughing and gagging. “You alright, nurse?” he chuckled.

“This is what you drink for medicinal purposes?” you said, wheezing. “It’s more like embalming fluid!” He laughed. “I’m going to need a new stomach by the time we get home.”

“Well, if you stayed in Arizona, I could do the replacement,” he said, smiling.

You looked at him, wondering how much of your conversation he remembered from the previous night.

“Y/LN,” he said tentatively, “I understand if you still want to go to Billings, but to be honest, I’m really hoping it’s not too late and you’ll reconsider. I, uh...I know I’m no picnic to work under, and I know maybe it’s too late to, like you said, be decent, but I’d like to at least try.”

He definitely remembers, you thought. Then you remembered what you’d said about going after things you want and felt your cheeks heat. It suddenly occurred to you that even as drunk as he’d seemed, he may have read between the lines and understood the subtext.

Sensing your ambivalence, McCoy cleared his throat and changed the subject. “Well, as long as I’m corrupting you by giving you alcohol, I don’t suppose you’d care for a round of cards?”

“You kidding?” you asked, relieved. “I was the gin champion of my dormitory. What are the stakes?”

“What do you usually use?”

“Well,” you said, considering. “My cigarettes should be dry by now.”

“You smoke?” he asked incredulously.

“On occasion,” you smiled. “What, I can’t have my own vices?”

You took out your pouch of tobacco and checked. McCoy reached in and snagged one. “Price of secrecy,” he drawled, striking a match on his boot and then lighting one for you.

“How did you come to get into nursing, anyway?” he asked, clenching it in his teeth and starting to shuffle.

“Well,” you considered, “I always loved the idea of helping people, and I come from a pretty big family, so I had some, I guess you could say, informal healthcare experience anyway.” You paused. “I also needed something to pay the bills after my husband—”

“You’re married?” he interjected, surprised.

“After my husband passed,” you finished.

“Oh,” he said, looking stricken. “I’m sorry, Y/LN. I didn’t know.” That must’ve added an extra layer of injury to his earlier assumption that you were only there to find a man, not to mention all of his more recent jabs about your personal life. “What happened, if you don’t mind my asking?”

“Thanks. I guess it is what it is,” you said quietly. “He was only 30, but he had a stroke. There were signs that something was wrong, but we never took them all that seriously since he was so young. I guess part of me likes to think I could help prevent it from happening to another family.”

McCoy nodded. “That makes sense.”

“What about you, sir?” you asked. “I mean, since we’re on the subject. Confirmed bachelor for life?”

“Well, it’s not such common knowledge, but I’m actually divorced.”

“Oh, you said,” surprised. Divorce wasn’t unheard of, but it definitely wasn’t common, and while you had no doubt your CO would be challenging to live with, you were still surprised by this admission. “Well, since we’re sharing,” you said carefully, “do you mind if I ask what happened?”

“I would think you’d be able to figure that out,” he said, laughing. “No, I guess I was the same as you in the sense that I’d always had a dream of doing something worthwhile, something to help people, but my family was wealthy, you see, and my father expected me to take over his business.”

“What was the business?”

“Putting other people out of business,” he answered wryly. “He was a corporate trust attorney. Made a lot of very rich men even richer. Anyway, she and I had grown up together and married young, and she felt the same way he did. I didn’t realize how much that’d figured into her decision to take up with me, but I finally had to tell her and the rest of them that I just wasn’t that man. The idea of having to take a family’s livelihood away from them, why...” his voice trailed off. “A few months after that, she found someone who did have the stomach for that kind of thing - my brother. I left and went to medical school, and I haven’t talked to the lot of them since.” McCoy threw the butt of his cigarette in the fire. “She’s very comfortable now, I hear. I guess can’t say I blame her. A doctor isn’t much of a provider.”

You felt a surge of sympathy. No wonder he was so closed-off. You knew all too well how it felt to be left out in the cold, but your spouse hadn’t left by choice, and your family, though chilly at the end, had at least been honest with you. Tentatively, you placed a hand on his arm, and he looked at you in surprise at the sudden touch. “Sir,” you said. “I don’t know how you could possibly blame yourself for that. She sounds awful. Who would prefer a fortune gained from someone else’s misery over a husband who loved and wanted to help people? I never thought I’d say this,” you chuckled gently, “but you could do much better.”

He fixed his eyes on you seriously for a few moments, as though trying to figure out if you were serious, and your breath caught at the intensity of that azure stare. “I don’t know if you’re just saying that to be kind, Y/LN, but thank you.” He smiled. “By the way, if you’re comfortable with it, you could call me by my name instead of my title.”

“Dr. McCoy?”

“Yes. Or even Leonard.”

“Okay, you said. Leonard.”

He paused. “May I use yours?”

You giggled slightly. “Sure.”

He poured you and himself another shot. “There you go, Y/N,” he said, smiling. You felt an unexpected rush at the sound of your name in his accent. “What do we toast to this time?” he asked.

You shrugged. “To being on a first-name basis?” you suggested.

He grinned broadly. “I’ll drink to that.”

The stuff was still disgusting, but you’d had enough at this point that it went down more smoothly. A bit too smoothly, perhaps. You weren’t normally much of a drinker, and your head was definitely spinning a little.

Evidently you weren’t the only one feeling a buzz. The next thing you knew, Leonard was leaning toward you and pressing a very soft, almost timid kiss to your lips. He pulled back for a moment, as if to give you the chance to run, and when you didn’t, he pressed again, more firmly this time.

Your head spun. This was your CO, the same asshole you’d been counting the days until you got to bid farewell to, and now here he was with his lips against yours and his scent of tobacco and spice enveloping you, and rather than being repulsed or angry, you felt like you’d been missing this your entire life. Instead of pushing him away, you found yourself allowing the kiss. And not just allowing it, but actively kissing him back, leaning into him and winding your arms around his neck. He groaned, his arms eagerly wrapping around your back, and before you knew it, your fingers were threading through his dark, wavy hair, his tongue was eagerly exploring your mouth, and you were letting him pull you onto his lap, your chest unexpectedly tight with anticipation.

“Y/N,” he groaned into your mouth, his large hands gripping your hips as you straddled him. He was nervous as hell, torn between not wanting you to think he thought you were one to take liberties with, but also desperately not wanting to stop what was happening. He had taken a ridiculous chance making a move in the first place and had more than half expected you to push him away. The fact that you hadn’t, and that you might actually have the same feelings for him, was almost more than he could process.

“Doc. I mean sir. Leonard,” you sighed, running your nails all over his shoulders and back and wondering if he’d think less of you for unbuttoning that muslin civvy shirt further so you could get a better look at the glimpse of chest hair that had been poking out and teasing you for the last 4 days.

You didn’t have to wonder long. Seeing your gaze, he undid the rest of the buttons himself, quickly discarding the garment and then shrugging out of the top of his union suit, eager for more of your attention. You pulled back a moment to look at him. Fuck, he was beautiful. You’d had no idea he was hiding muscles like these under his uniform, and you couldn’t resist running your hands all over his bronzed shoulders and chest, lightly stroking its even covering of soft brown hair.

Leonard shivered with helpless arousal as you gently explored him. It had been years at least since he’d seen that look of desire on a woman’s face, and longer still since he could be fairly sure it was sincere. Seeing it on yours now set every fiber of his being on fire with need. Cupping your cheeks with his hands, he pressed hot, desperate kisses to your mouth, forgetting his usual self-doubt and completely focusing on how badly he wanted to show you how much you meant to him.

“Should I?” you said, timidly, your fingers on the top button of your blouse. “Please, yes,” he urged hoarsely, nodding eagerly.

You started unbuttoning, and he got to work as well, hoping to speed the process. He was noticeably hard now, and you gasped at the feeling of that hardness right underneath you, remembering how large it had felt the last time you’d encountered it. Searching your eyes for approval, Leonard eased the open blouse off your shoulders and down your arms. With your top discarded, he reached behind and loosened your corset, helping you lift both it and your chemise over your head, leaving you completely bare from the waist up before him. A chill breeze blew by just then, causing every square inch of your exposed skin to tighten in goosebumps. He growled lowly, his eyes widening and his mouth watering at the sight.

“God, you’re beautiful, Y/N,” he sighed, his hot hands gently skimming down your shoulders and arms. Your cheeks warmed and you looked down, suddenly very bashful and very conscious of the fact that you were sitting topless on his lap. Turning your face back up to him, he kissed you again, very softly and tenderly this time.

“We’d better get you warmed up,” he murmured against your lips. You let him coax you down gently onto the blankets and wrap you up with himself. Once under the blankets, his affections didn’t stop. His kisses got hotter and needier, and his hands got bolder. Stroking and nipping, he made his way up and down your torso like he was on a recon mission, investigating every square inch of flesh to see what secrets and reactions he might discover and murmuring praises when he got one of particular interest. “There, sweetheart? Like that?” You found yourself melting into his sensual exploration and returning it with your own, drawing more soft praises and growls of pleasure from him. Before long, the remainder of your clothing and his had been unbuttoned, removed, and set aside as well, and you forgot any need for modesty amid the sensation of his hot, bare skin against yours and his growing arousal pressing against your belly.

A sudden shift in your positions brought his erection up against your core and you both gasped. “Leonard, I uh, we probably shouldn’t...I might, um...” As badly as you wanted him, you were right at the midpoint of your cycle, and the risk was just too high.

“Right. There are other things, though,” he said.

“Like what?”

“Do you trust me?”

You raised an eyebrow. “That’s a loaded question, doc,” you teased.

“Just lie back,” he said, smiling and pressing you down gently. “Now tell me if any of this makes you uncomfortable,” he said, getting back under the blankets.

You closed your eyes, expecting the touch of his hands. What happened instead shocked you, but it felt too incredible to complain about.

“Does that feel good, my dear?” he asked.

“Leonard, what are you doing,” you gasped, squirming in unexpected pleasure at the sensation of his hands on your inner thighs, spreading you, and his soft lips and tongue exploring you gently.

“Shh, honey,” he said soothingly. “Don’t be embarrassed. Just let yourself enjoy it.” With that, he lowered his head again and continued his efforts, kissing his way back up your inner thigh before gently opening your folds and teasing your slit with the flat of his tongue.

“Mmm... taste sweeter than honey,” he drawled, spreading you a bit further and lapping at you more insistently. You knew you should probably be shocked by what he was doing, but you couldn’t quite form the words to discourage him. You couldn’t focus on anything but the soft movements of his tongue and lips and the rough scratch of his cheeks on your inner thighs. The filthy encouragements pouring from his mouth in that silky drawl whenever he paused, too, so different from the rougher words you were used to from him, were making you wetter than you’d ever thought possible. It was unlike anything you’d ever experienced, and you couldn’t help but whimper loudly in pleasure, winding your fingers in his hair as he probed at you. There was a fierce pressure building low in your abdomen, but it wasn’t at all unpleasant. He tried one technique and then another, studying how you responded and murmuring approval as he wrapped his hands around your hips and buried his face in you. You caught a glimpse of him, his eyes glued to your face and the slightest hint of a smirk as he watched you come more and more undone with each movement of his tongue.

You were shaken by a new sensation then as he slid a thick finger into you, curling it and massaging your walls. The combination of his movement inside you and his tongue teasing you was overwhelming, and you lost what little had remained of your composure, writhing and whining.

“That’s it, honey,” he drawled, his accent heavy from arousal. “You’re doing beautifully.” He added a second finger then, and started to gently fuck you with them while continuing to tease your clit with his tongue. The tight heat of your pussy around his fingers was having no small effect on him, and the eager, immediate way you were responding to his every touch and tease was making him harder and hotter than he’d ever thought possible. He couldn’t remember ever wanting someone so badly. One thing was for sure - he was never going to be able to get through another shift with you again without remembering the way his name sounded falling off your lips in a moan and the feel of your thighs trembling under his hands as he worked at you. He wondered if it would be the same for you, and whether he might get the opportunity to do this after hours in the infirmary, you reclining on a cot with his head buried in your lap. He moaned in lust just thinking about it, and the vibration sent sparks throughout your core, making you cry out.

You actually hadn’t gotten that far ahead; all you could focus on was wanting him to never stop. His other hand slid up your side and latched onto your breast then, squeezing lightly and pinching the nipple, and that was all you could take. Arching your back, you moaned, “doctor” louder, rolling your hips shamelessly against his face.

“There you go, beautiful,” he encouraged. “That’s it. Come for me. Let me taste you, sweetheart.”

At the sound of his dirty talk, something in you snapped, and you were overwhelmed with pleasure, crying out his name. He continued working at you as you rode out the waves of ecstasy against his mouth, thoroughly enjoying the sound of his name on your lips and the feeling of your body clenching down so sweetly around just his fingers. He couldn’t disagree with your reason for not wanting to risk intercourse, but he would have traded his commission to be able to get these same reactions while completely burying himself in you.

When he was satisfied you’d had enough, he crawled back up your body, pressing feverish kisses to your lips. The taste of yourself on him mixed with his own scent sent an aftershock of lust through you, and you whimpered softly and held him tightly.

“Doc,” you said, panting. “What was that?”

“Had you never had an orgasm, sweetheart?”

“I guess not,” you said, a little embarrassed. You did recall some talk in school about “hysterical paroxysm,” usually amid much giggling. You had no idea where an army doctor would learn such a technique, though. The fact that he had, and that he’d mastered it this well, made you incredibly curious about what else he might be interested in and open to.

“Well, I hope you enjoyed it,” he said, smiling.

“That’d be a fair assessment,” you breathed and grinned, trailing a hand down his cheek. He held your palm to his face and kissed it, reclining on his elbow next to you. You reached down and ran your hand along his side, then glanced at his face as you wandered around to his front and then down. He was hard as steel and leaking copiously, and he growled at your touch, clenching his eyes shut and thrusting eagerly into your hand.

“Hmm, looks like you might have a need of your own here, doctor,” you teased. “Is there anything I can do to help?”

“You don’t have to, Y/N,” he said, his words courteous but his tone and movements betraying his hunger.

“I know. But I want to. Show me?”

“Alright,” he said, sliding the blanket down to give you better access. You gasped when you finally saw him. You’d been absolutely right in your earlier estimate. He was fairly long and impressively thick, and you could barely get your hand around the circumference of him. For a moment you wondered if it might actually be worth the risk to go for it and have him just pull out. Then you got another idea.

“You really don’t have to, Y/N,” he said gently, thinking you looked nervous.

“No, Leonard,” you said. “I want to. I just -“ you looked down bashfully “- I’ve never seen one this...big.”

He would have been lying if he’d said hearing that didn’t make his entire year. “Oh,” he chuckled. “I see.”

You lay down on your side facing him. Wrapping one hand around the base, you ran the other lightly up and down the shaft, teasing and exploring and letting his reactions guide you. You let him cover your hand with his, showing you how he liked to be handled. Your husband hadn’t had much use for foreplay, so you hadn’t had many chances to really learn how to touch a man. Judging by the moans spilling from his mouth, though, you were getting the hang of it pretty quickly. “Mmmm, yes...Y/N,” he murmured, sighing.

Emboldened by the response you were getting, you leaned down and softly pressed a kiss to the head, looking up to gauge his reaction. He let out an enormous groan of surprise and nodded, so you repeated the action, this time teasing your lips all the way around his head and breathing hotly, keeping your eyes on his the entire time.

“Should I keep going?” He nodded vigorously, panting and sighing. You continued massaging his shaft, a bit more firmly now, and when a bead of clear fluid appeared at the head, you bent down and, while maintaining full eye contact, licked the tip of your tongue across the head, tasting him.

“Ugghh, Y/N,” he groaned, more aroused and frustrated than he’d ever thought possible. He was trying his best to not overwhelm you with his reactions, but he was already so wound up from your response to his own ministrations, plus he’d been pining for you so long anyway that now being the subject of your full attention in this incredibly intimate way was completely overwhelming his senses. He was struggling to maintain some composure, lest he inadvertently say or do something to put you off again.

Sensing that he was still holding back and wanting to break that self-control — to make him focus entirely on the pleasure — you stepped up your teasing. With your free hand, you teased his scrotum lightly with your short fingernails. “Like this, sir?” you whispered, looking up at him as you swirled your tongue slowly around the head of his cock. The sight of your gorgeous mouth wrapping around his dick and your still calling him by his title were making him absolutely crazy. Even more, you seemed to be enjoying this as much as he was. “Mmm, sir,” you purred, noticing the way he responded to your use of his title. “You taste so good.”

“Dammit, sweetheart,” he groaned, delighted to discover you were able to rile him up just as efficiently in this context as in an argument. “You’re trying to kill me, aren’t you?” You didn’t respond in words, just smirked up at him as you took the opportunity to close the deal, finally taking his cock fully into your mouth, just the head at first, but then more, until you had swallowed as much of his length as you could take. You continued swirling your tongue and began to work the rest of his shaft with your hand, sucking and stroking messily.

That seemed to be the magic combination. Moaning and panting, he wound his fingers into your hair and thrust gently into your mouth. “Oops, sorry, dear,” he murmured, but you pressed a hand to his hip and encouraged the movement, taking him as deeply as you were able to again. “Ughhh, Y/N,” he groaned loudly, not needing any further invitation and beginning to rock his hips against your face.

You hummed in satisfaction as the two of you found a rhythm, him starting to fuck your mouth in earnest as you continued working him with both hands, squeezing his balls very lightly. Your jaw was starting to ache a bit, but the groans and curses coming out of him made it more than worthwhile. You could feel him throbbing, and you realized with satisfaction that he must be close. “Honey, I don’t think I can take much more,” he begged. At that, you gripped his dick more firmly and focused entirely on making him completely lose control.

“Honey,” he gasped, “oh honey, watch out, I’m going to.... ugh, you’re going to make me ....uggggghhhh.” You paid him no heed, though, continuing to massage and stroke and suck with abandon as he groaned and gasped, until he lost any remaining hold on decorum, or even his own name for that matter. For a few blissful moments, he allowed himself to completely forget who he was and just thought about how it would feel to have you pinned underneath him, thrusting deep into another part of you and able to look you in the eyes as you succumbed to the passion together, and let go, let it all go, shouting your name hoarsely as his whole body tensed and the ecstasy and adrenaline shot through his veins.

A rush of hot, sweet, salty fluid flooded your mouth, hitting the back of your throat. It just kept coming, and you swallowed as fast as you could, teasing the underside of his cock with your tongue as you swallowed. He seemed to enjoy that because he kept gasping and loudly groaning your name along with various terms of endearment and a few obscenities. Finally, the flood stopped and you pulled away, smiling a bit bashfully, a small trickle still at the corner of your lip. “How was that?” He looked at you in awe, still panting and dazed from what he’d just experienced. He was pretty sure he’d never come that hard in his life. The crush on you he’d been fighting to contain for months had just crossed the line into full-blown passion, and he knew there was no point trying to fight it anymore — for better or for worse now, this need was here to stay. “Come here, sweetheart,” he whispered, pulling you into his arms and wrapping the blankets around the both of you.

You settled down to sleep, this time not awkwardly spooning but instead with you fully draped across his bare chest and his arms holding you tightly, like he was afraid the next breeze might carry you away. He tried to think of something to say, to let you know what he was feeling, but not in a way that would overwhelm you or spoil the moment. Nothing came to mind, though, and after several minutes he settled for dusting off a very simple three-word phrase he hadn’t used in many years. It was hardly flowery or poetic, but it was full of sincere emotion just the same, and he spoke it so softly you weren’t sure you heard it at first. You took a chance and responded in kind, though, and he confirmed that you’d heard correctly by drawing you into a kiss more sweet and tender than, a few hours earlier, you would’ve thought him capable of.

The two of you lay together sleepily for a while after that, you tracing absent-minded patterns on his chest and him holding you firmly. Every few minutes, your lips met for another slow, sensual kiss, both of you enjoying the closeness and comfort of each other too much to fall asleep just yet. The steady beat of his heart under your ear and the crackling of the fire in the background provided a soothing lullaby. Every so often, a star shot by overhead, and he, a man who typically loathed superstition, found himself still hoping that one of them might be for him this time.


	12. Fresh Start

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The travel party returns to Enterprise with some noticeable improvements.

You awoke just before sunrise the next morning the same way you’d fallen asleep, with Leonard stroking your hair softly and pressing gentle kisses to your cheeks, your forehead, and your lips. You looked up at him and smiled. “Good morning, sweetheart,” he whispered.

“Hey, handsome,” you smiled, yawning, and even in the low light you could see him beam at the compliment. “What time is it?”

“About 5:30,” he said. “How did you sleep?”

You were about to say pretty well, but a jab of pain behind your eye sockets cut you off mid-syllable.

“Oooh,” you groaned, putting your hand to your head. The tequila from last night was not doing you any favors this morning, and you felt your stomach begin to rise in protest.

“You had a fair bit to drink last night,” Leonard commented. “You feeling alright? Up to riding today?”

“I’ll live,” you grimaced.

He reached over to grab his canteen for you. “Drink up, my dear,” he instructed. You took several large gulps and then lay back down, letting him pull you to him again and realizing a bit sheepishly that it was nearly broad daylight and you were, in fact, outdoors and very nakedly pressed against your CO. The memories came flooding back clearly then, and you froze a bit, not at all repulsed, but a little shocked at yourself and flustered.

Leonard must’ve realized. “Listen, uh...” he started, sounding very nervous. “I probably should have realized you’d had so much to drink. I hope you, uh, well...I hope you don’t regret anything. And I _really_ hope you, ah, remember what happened.” He chuckled, but you could hear the trepidation in his voice.

You looked up at him and squeezed him gently. “You should give yourself more credit, doctor. That was pretty memorable. Now that you mention it, though,” you continued, “some of the details _are_ a little foggy. I might need a reminder when my headache’s calmed down.” You smiled and winked at him.

He grinned broadly and looked relieved. “Oh? I can do that.”

The two of you lay there a little while longer, enjoying the warmth under the covers and the first few minutes of wakefulness, and getting reacquainted with this new closeness. Eventually, you got up, got dressed, and started packing, occasionally sneaking glances at each other, both still a bit shocked at how much things had changed between you in the last 12 hours.  
  


~~~~~

The place where you’d camped was past the halfway point, so at least you wouldn’t need to travel quite as far on your hangover. The two of you rode in silence for a while, but it wasn’t the usual awkward or hostile kind.

Before too long, you could make out the fort on the horizon. McCoy knew it was either now or never. He looked over at you and opened his mouth to speak, then stopped.

“Something on your mind?” you asked.

“I have to ask, Y/N — are you still planning on leaving at the end of the year?”

“I don’t know,” you said sadly. “I’ve been thinking about that. Unfortunately, I think Chapel already found a replacement for me.”

“Dammit,” he said under his breath. He wasn’t good at this sort of thing at all, but he needed to find a way somehow if he wanted to keep you nearby. “I, uh...I like you very much, Y/N. I think you know that. I hope you know that. And I really don’t want you to be hundreds of miles away from me if that isn’t what you want.” He paused. “How settled are you on working for the Army?” he asked.

You shrugged. “It’s a job,” you said.

“Have you ever given thought to working for a private practice?”

“It would depend on the type,” you answered honestly. “The thing I really like about nursing for the Army is you get a little bit more respect. I don’t know what it’s like here, but where I come from, hospitals are still a place most people don’t want to end up, and the nurses there...well, they’re not always the best trained. And with private practices, that really depends entirely on the doctor or the partnership. A reputable one, sure, but there are an awful lot of quacks around these days.”

“That’s understandable,” he mused. “Honest question — would I be reputable enough for you?”

“Definitely,” you said. “You might drink a bit more than you ought to, but you’re studied and I know you care about your patients. Why do you ask?”

“Well, my enlistment term is getting close to being up. I’d been giving thought anyway as to whether I wanted to re-enlist and stay on or go somewhere else.”

“Where else would you want to go?”

“Possibly one of the towns in the area. Or possibly further west. I’ve always wanted to be a private physician more anyway. The army was more of a convenient distraction after, well...after my marriage ended.”

“That makes sense,” you said. “And...you’re saying you’d need staff?” you smiled.

“Yes,” he said. He smiled back. “Although as far as you’re concerned, there are a couple of positions you could pick from.”

“Oh? Nurse? And what else?”

He gulped quietly, hoping he could manage to not mess this up. “Well, it would be a bit different in some ways. It might involve more of a variety in your daily routine, and, uh, you might need to work some nights, possibly wear, uh, more hats. I suppose one might call it a partnership of sorts?” He looked over to gauge your response.

“Hmm, sounds interesting,” you said, cocking your head and smiling. “I’d like to hear more.”

He grinned back. “Well, perhaps over dinner in the mess—”

Before he could finish his sentence, though, you heard a chorus of hoofbeats behind you. You turned around and saw a group of navy blue figures on horseback.

“Is that the colonel?” McCoy asked aloud.

Kirk let out a whoop as he and the others galloped up to you and your CO. “Ho! It’s our medical corps,” Kirk yelled in delight.

“Jim?” McCoy said. “I thought you were way ahead of us.”

“We were,” Kirk answered exuberantly, “until Harcourt fell into the river and almost drowned. It took three of us to save him and two more to calm him down. The poor dude insisted on going back to Ft. Belden after all.”

“Why am I not surprised,” McCoy said, shaking his head. “Y/LN and I made it across that stretch of the Verde no problem,” he shrugged, glancing at you and winking.

You shot him a look of mock annoyance but couldn’t help cracking a smile. “I guess it’s all a matter of perspective, sir,” you commented.

Kirk glanced back and forth between the two of you. It was only a momentary pause, but he recognized something had clearly changed in your dynamic, and he made a mental note to find out exactly what that was as soon as he could get McCoy alone. Not wanting to address it publicly, though, he changed the subject.

“Well, let’s get on with it! I have never been so glad to get back to this place,” Kirk exclaimed. He spurred his palomino, and your party, finally entirely united, rode on.

Dammit, McCoy thought. He was glad to be back, and it was good to see Jim and the rest of them, but now he was going to have to find another opportunity — and screw up the nerve all over again — to tell you what was on his mind.


	13. Questions and Answers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reader has a hangover, but Leonard knows exactly how to help.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is about as fluffy as I can tolerate getting. The situation seemed to call for it, though. :)

Surprisingly, no huge caseload had developed in your absence and the infirmary was still mostly empty. Taking pity on you, McCoy sent you back to your room to tend your hangover. Later in the afternoon, Kirk dropped by, and finding you’d been given the afternoon off, saw his opportunity to get to the bottom of his suspicions from earlier.

“Well, Bones, I see you’re settling back in. Where’s Y/LN?”

“She’s in her room, sir. Wasn’t feeling well, so I gave her a few hours off. Do you need to talk to her?”

“Oh, no, no, just wondering,” Kirk said, seating himself on a cot and watching McCoy as he organized and dusted the inventory on his shelves.

“How were the patients at Belden? Everyone in good shape when the two of you left?”

“Yes, very good, sir. Well, one was screaming and crying, but I suppose that’s to be expected,” he chuckled.

Kirk gave a short laugh but refused to take the subject change bait. “Nothing contagious, though? Y/LN didn’t catch anything, did she?”

“No, sir. Just needed a rest.”

“Oh, I see. Of course. It was...a long ride.” He looked at McCoy knowingly. “I suppose it could just be fatigue.”

McCoy grunted in affirmation but otherwise said nothing.

“You two did a lot of that riding on your own...must’ve had some good opportunity for conversation?”

“What do you want, Jim?”

“Bones,” Kirk asked. “Call me crazy for asking, but did something...happen between you and Y/LN while we were out there? When I left Belden yesterday morning, you two could barely stand the sight of each other, but then earlier today—”

McCoy shot him a look that said to stop, but Kirk persisted.

“Well, it seems like everything’s been smoothed over. Bones, you know I normally don’t pry,” Kirk started.

“Yes, it’s a good policy, Jim, I’d encourage you to stick to it.”

“Doctor, this involves my personnel and potentially morale. If there’s something going on, I have the right to at least be aware of it.”

McCoy sighed deeply. “Something did...happen. Please don’t ask me to elaborate, though, I don’t think Y/N would appreciate it.”

“Ah,” Kirk said, raising his eyebrows at McCoy’s use of your first name instead of your last name or title. “And?”

“And what?”

Kirk frowned a little. “Well, what are your intentions, Bones? I’ll admit I may be complicit in this -“ McCoy looked up and stared “- I may have said something to her at the dance...but—”

“Oh, for pity’s sake, Jim,” he groaned.

“Bones, I’m concerned. This isn’t some good-time girl from town, this is your subordinate. And mine. You need to be careful how you proceed here.”

“You think I don’t get that? This isn’t something you see me do normally, is it? Before you came stampeding up behind us this morning, I was going to ask her...well...I was trying to think of a way to ask her to... Blast it, I was trying to propose.”

Kirk’s face relaxed into a huge smile, and he grabbed McCoy by the shoulders. “Bones, that’s wonderful!”

“Well, don’t be overjoyed just yet, I haven’t asked. And then there’s the question of would she even accept.”

“Well, what are you waiting for?”

“Oh Jim, how can I?” he said, clasping his hands behind his back and pacing. “She knows how I accused her of just being just to find a husband, and now I’d be asking her to give up her career to do just exactly that for me. Medicine isn’t a lark, Jim, it’s a calling. At least I know it is for her. I still have another 8 months left in my contract before I can go anywhere. The woman spent 2 years in school and she’s worked hard here...how can I ask her to give that up to sit at home and knit socks?”

“Does she have to give it up?”

“Aren’t there regulations against married women working here?”

Kirk shook his head. “None that I know of,” he grinned. “The Nurse Corps is too new.”

“Oh, well, give them time,” McCoy grumbled. “And there’s another thing — she says Chapel already found a replacement for her.”

“That’s entirely at my discretion, Bones. Chapel doesn’t override me, and I don’t have to accept any replacement I don’t want. She also signed a three-year contract for this post, and I don’t have to accept her resignation. Does she know that?”

“I don’t know.”

“Talk to her, Bones. She obviously has some real feelings for you if she’s able to overlook what you’ve put her through the last 4 months.” McCoy gave him a pained look at the reminder, but Kirk touched his shoulder and looked at him knowingly. “This isn’t Jocelyn...she’s not going to throw a fit and leave if everything’s not perfect.”

“Dammit, though, that’s just it. I want it to be as perfect as possible because of that. If she’s going to be putting up with me for the rest of her life, the least I can do is have a few things in order first.”

“Okay. Just as long as it’s in progress. I’ll want a status report, doctor,” Kirk grinned, rapping the desk with his knuckles and sauntering out just as you came in. “Y/LN!” he said, beaming at you and grabbing you by the shoulders. “Glad to see you’re feeling better. You...are feeling better?”

“Yes, thank you, sir,” you said, bemused, as he continued out. “Wow, he’s in a good mood.”

“You don’t know the half of it.” Leonard pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Am I interrupting something?” you asked. “I can come back.”

“Nonsense, my dear, you know your hours,” he grinned, taking your hand and pressing it to his cheek.

“Mm. Well, that sounded rather important.”

“Oh? How much did you hear?”

“Well, I wasn’t trying to eavesdrop, if that’s what you mean,” you teased. “It did sound like something was being...planned, though.”

“What do you think it might have been?” he asked, still holding your hand.

“I don’t know. I do recall it sounded like you were about to invite me to dinner before he interrupted us, though.”

“Oh, that’s right, I was. Are you up to eating right now?”

“Assuming I could get something light,” you said. “Like soup, maybe?”

“Well, good,” he said. “I’ve already sent Farrell over to the mess to bring some back.” He smiled.

“Wow, that was thoughtful of you.”

“I have my moments,” he chuckled. “Besides, this involves an important personnel matter. Don’t need a bunch of lugheads listening in and interrupting.”

“Wow, sounds like it. Are you going to keep me in suspense until the food gets here?” you teased.

He gulped silently. “No, ah...we can talk now.” He motioned to the cot in front of him and you both sat down.

“I think you were talking about additional responsibilities and evening work? Oh, and something about a possible partnership down the road?”

“Yes, that’s right.” He cleared his throat. “Although...I was actually thinking the partnership should probably come before the rest of that.”

“Oh? Wow, that’s a pretty fast promotion! Not that I mind—”

“Y/N,” he said gently. “I hope it doesn’t sound like I don’t admire your proficiency here, because I very much do. But I’m not talking about a literal job with a paycheck here.”

“Oh?” You tilted your head. You did have a notion of what might be coming, but you also needed him to spell it out. “What, then?”

He took your hand and spoke quietly. “I hope this doesn’t make me too much of a hypocrite, but what I was thinking of was of, ah, a more personal nature.” He laughed nervously and looked down. “I’m afraid I haven’t had a chance to get much in order, but maybe I could offer you this for the time being.” You watched in shock as he removed the small ring from his pinky finger and held it out.

“Leonard,” you stammered. “Are you asking me what I think you’re asking?”

“Maybe,” he said quietly. “If that’s agreeable to you. And I know you’re serious about your work and I don’t want to take you from that. That’s why I was suggesting the two of us starting a private practice if you’d be open to that. Although if you couldn’t stand to put up with me 24 hours a day, I could understand that, too,” he chuckled nervously again. “I know this is moving very fast, Y/N, and if you need time to think about it, please take it. I had to hurry up and ask, though. I’ve only got a few more weeks until you’re hundreds of miles from here. Speaking of which, I hope you can let me know by then.”

You smiled and nodded, your cheeks heating like crazy. “Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Yeah,” you said, grinning. “I accept both offers.” Genuine surprise and joy lit up his face, and you almost wished you could accept again just to see that transformation one more time. “Promise me one thing, though? When we do get out of here, can we leave Farrell and Mr. Walker Red on the post when we go?” you added, raising an eyebrow.

He laughed. “I’ll shake to that.” Taking your hand, he placed a gentle kiss on it, then thought better of it and pulled close you to him. It felt even more strange kissing him here, in the infirmary, where you’d had so many disagreements and frustrating miscommunications, but somehow it also felt incredibly right. The kiss deepened, his arms squeezing you more tightly, and you found yourself simultaneously melting into him and getting excited by the memory of the last time he’d held you this way.

The door opened then, and a typically sour-faced Farrell walked in with a tray, grimacing and walking right back out again as soon as he saw the two of you embracing.

“I guess that means dinner is ready,” McCoy said, blushing and laughing. “I’ll be right back.”

~~~~~

“This is really good soup,” you commented, sipping the light, slightly spicy purple broth he had brought you. “I can’t quite place the flavor, though. What is it?”

“Oh. That’s actually a ‘family recipe’ from Spock,” he said. “He calls it ‘plumique’ or something like that. Says it’s a delicacy where he comes from. He won’t tell me what the ingredients are and I don’t really want to know, but I have to admit it’s good for hangovers.”

“Ah. That does beg the question, of course...it sounds like Spock knows I have a hangover? What else do he and Kirk know?” you teased.

“They do know,” he said quietly. “At least that I was planning to ask. I hope you don’t mind. But Kirk is my commanding officer, and as frustrating as he and Spock can be, the two of them are also probably my best friends here. Although I suppose I should be grateful to the colonel for blowing my cover, shouldn’t I?”

“It didn’t hurt, that’s for sure,” you said, chuckling. “I don’t think I ever would’ve guessed you felt that way.”

“Not even after the way I woke you up that first morning on the road?” he laughed. “I swear, I half-expected you to leave right then. I wouldn’t have blamed you.”

“What did you think when I didn’t?”

“Just that you were a good sport. Though, maybe there was more to it than that?” He scooted closer to you.

“Could’ve been,” you grinned. “I still can’t believe you were jealous of Harcourt,” you shook your head.

McCoy laughed. “I think I’ll send the wedding announcement to him myself. Speaking of which, I suppose you’ll probably want to write your family and have them come out? How long would that take to arrange?”

“Well, that’s a little complicated,” you admitted. “My late husband, George, ah...didn’t exactly meet with my family’s approval,” you said. “When I married him, most of them made it clear I wasn’t welcome anymore, and his passing didn’t change that. I will write my [your closest family member] and my friends - I’m sure they’ll be glad to know - but I’m afraid I wouldn’t count on having many people on my side of the chapel.” You hated having to admit that, but when you looked up at him, all you saw was sympathy. You then remembered what he’d told you on the trail about his own family and career choice.

“That’s perfect, then,” he said. “Way fewer constraints. We could go into town or just have something small here.”

You breathed a sigh of relief and smiled. “That sounds perfect.”

“And for a honeymoon?”

“Would they even let us out of here?” you laughed.

“Probably for about 36 hours.”

“That might be enough time for a camping trip. A couple of horses and a tent shouldn’t be hard to come by. Maybe you can make me cross the Verde again?”

“Oh?” he laughed. “I didn’t think you cared for that too much.”

“Well, maybe not the falling in part. But, uh, the drying off and warming up weren’t so bad. And maybe you can explain what that dream was you had the last time.” 

His brows shot up and his face flushed as he caught your meaning. “Sure, we, uh...I could do that,” he grinned.

Your banter was interrupted just then by an E3 with extremely poor timing requesting some laxatives. Aside from that, though, the remainder of the evening was uncommonly slow, and you and Leonard spent the time just enjoying each other’s company and making happy plans for the future.

Neither of you, nor any of the senior officers at Enterprise, could have guessed that some 50 miles away, a deeply embittered, court-martialed ex-soldier and his disgraced surgeon accomplice were being stripped of rank, shorn of hair, and drummed out into the wilderness without provision — as luck would have it, pointed right in the direction of Ft. Enterprise.


	14. Groundwork

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kirk meddles a little, and Reader spends a very busy week preparing for her wedding. We also get to catch up with Uhura and Chapel.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, I lied. I used more fluff to tie up some loose ends before the final chapter. There isn’t as much Len in this one, but the next chapter should make up for that. ;)

”Oh, dammit!”

You’d meant only to sit back on your heels, but thanks to the slickness of the floor you were scrubbing, you’d landed flatly on your butt on the hard wood, and soapy water was now seeping through the back of your dress. 

Exasperated, you wiped your face. You were glad you’d be able to continue your nursing work after the wedding. You hadn’t excelled in housekeeping during your last marriage, and clearly whatever skills you _had_ possessed were out of practice. You got up and plunked down at the kitchen table, figuring you’d earned a 5-minute breather at least. 

It probably didn’t help that you had a lot on your mind. Things were moving very quickly. When you’d originally written Superintendent Christine Chapel weeks earlier requesting a change of post, the planned date of your arrival in Billings had been January 4, 1896. Given that it was now the beginning of December and enough had happened that you had no intention of leaving, there had been no time to waste.

Kirk immediately wrote a letter and you sent your own telegraphed message to Chapel, explaining the change in your plans and apologizing for any inconvenience. Unfortunately, the only response you received was from her secretary, affirming her receipt of your message and her understanding that you would be staying on at Enterprise. Chapel was typically much more solicitous, so you figured that you’d probably ruffled a few feathers with your sudden change of plans.

Not that you’d had a lot of time to worry about that possible bridge-burning, though. There was also the busyness of the season. Frontier bases, especially the more isolated desert posts like Enterprise, tended to look for any excuse to celebrate, mainly as a way to relieve the monotony of normal day-to-day life. The holidays provided perfect opportunity for this, and since October, preparations for the annual festivities had been underway. 

This year, Kirk had found an additional reason to celebrate — one of his two best friends was getting remarried. That alone was cause enough for a big party, but in this case, he saw a perfect opportunity to invite the brass from Ft. Belden over for a reception and a big holiday dance. The small, intimate ceremony you and Leonard had originally envisioned was turning into the social event of the year.

You weren’t exactly thrilled about this — you’d been hoping for something a lot more quiet and low-key — but you also understood what it probably meant to the others to have an excuse to get together — and not just the people at your post, but the wives and children at Belden, many of whom barely ever got to travel more than a few miles from their base in any direction. So, you’d agreed to it. At least Kirk wasn’t expecting you to handle the party planning. You and Leonard primarily just needed to show up, make a few huge lifetime promises in public, and socialize.

In the meantime, you also had your regular workload and a new home to get ready. Since you were getting married, you and Leonard were moving into one of the married officers’ bungalows on the other side of the central marching square. It was a little farther from the infirmary, but it was way more spacious and comfortable, and its new roof meant you probably wouldn’t need to leave out pots to catch water each time it rained. Regulations didn’t allow the two of you to live together until after the wedding, so in the meantime, you’d been using most of your downtime to clean and decorate the place a bit. Leonard was coming by as he was able, too, but he’d had even more on his plate workwise than you did. Sitting here now, the soapy floor-water seeping through to your skin, you weren’t sure whether to be frustrated that the week was passing too quickly or too slowly, and you cursed again.

“Y/N! My ears!” A surprised laugh rang out from the doorway. You looked up to see Nyota Uhura leaning against the door frame.

“Sorry, I thought I was alone here,” you said sheepishly.

”Am I interrupting?”

“I hope so,” you laughed. “Come in and pull up a chair. I’m going to keep cleaning, though, if you don’t mind.”

“All work and no play makes Y/N a dull friend, sugar,” she said, sitting down next to you. “I know I told you to work through lunch sometimes, but that was _weeks_ ago, and from what I hear, I think you’ve worked through your issues with the doctor.”

You grinned. “You could say that. I’m sorry, Ny,” you said. “I haven’t been much of a friend lately. I promise I’ll come by soon.”

She put a hand on your arm. “Honey, I didn’t come to guilt trip you, just to check up on you! You look tired! And I mean that in the best possible way.”

“I’m a little overwhelmed,” you admitted. “Leonard and I didn’t really want to wait, but now I’m thinking we should’ve put it off a bit. There’s just so much to do. And then there’s all the people from Belden, and just...” your voice trailed off. “It’s just a lot.”

“I’ve got an idea,” she smiled. “I‘ll make you a deal. I’ll help you with _this_ for the rest of the week if you come to town with me this morning and help me deliver the stuff to the church.” Every year, Nyota managed a Christmas charity drive for the families in the towns closest to the post. It was mostly clothes, quilts, and toys that the women and some of the soldiers on base made throughout the year. 

This was actually the first chance you’d had to go into town since you’d gotten to the fort months earlier, and between the chance to get out and the promise of your friend’s company, there was no way you could resist. “Deal,” you grinned. 

The town of Enterprise was a small one, with only the church, a saloon, and a handful of businesses and stores on its Main Street. On your way back from the church, though, you couldn’t help noticing a ready-made dress in the window of one of the stores — it was simple, but a stunning shade of [your favorite color] and it appeared to be about your size. You looked at Nyota and she nodded. It was perfect.

Half an hour later, after a quick try-on, the two of you headed back to the fort in the buckboard, which was now empty except for the dress box in back. Nyota laughed as you rambled on. You knew you were blabbering, but you were just so excited over your find. You couldn’t wait to wear it down the aisle.

Nyota more than held up her end of her bargain, too. By the end of the week, although it was still a bit short on actual furniture, the bungalow was perfect and ready to really move into. 

Neither of you could have had any way of knowing that the owner of that store in town, Mrs. Beth Martin, had once been named Beth Judson — and that she had been listening intently to your and Nyota’s conversation the entire time you’d been in the dressing room that morning. You also couldn’t have suspected that the moment you left, she’d run home to her cousin Paul and his doctor friend, who were staying with her, to fill them in on every detail she’d heard about what was planned that weekend at the fort — especially the fact that his former commanding officers would be there.

~~~~~

The morning of the wedding itself, you woke up to a chilly breeze blowing through the room and a strange feeling in the pit of your stomach. 

The breeze was easy to explain — you’d been up late the night before making some final alterations to your dress, and you’d hoped the cold air would help you stay awake a bit longer. You had a vague recollection of Leonard gently rousing you around midnight and moving you up to the bed, but he must have been tired after his shift and not noticed it open.

The odd feeling was another matter, but it was likely just nerves. You got up, closed the window, stretched, and headed downstairs. You were sure to feel better after some breakfast and coffee. 

As you gulped down your first cup of black coffee (more of Len’s influence, you thought with a smile), there was an unexpected knock at the door.

You half-expected to see your fiancé on the other side, wedding-day superstitions be damned, but there on the doorstep instead was none other than Superintendent Chapel. She was accompanied by a younger, blonde woman with an elaborate updo.

“Christine?” you said.

“Y/N! My dear!” She exclaimed, grabbing your hands. “Col. Kirk told me I could find you here. You look beautiful, my dear,” she gushed. “I’m so sorry I didn’t send more proper congratulations. It has just been a frenzy at headquarters! You know how it is. May we come in?” she asked, gesturing into the sitting room.

“Oh yes, of course. Please.” You invited them both to sit and brought over the coffee, thankful you’d at least been able to populate the room with a few chairs. “Sugar or cream?” you asked them, and the blonde woman held out her cup.

“Oh, where are my manners?” Christine exclaimed. “Y/LN, this is Janice Rand. I was on my way to personally drop her off at Ft. Belden, but I couldn’t pass by here without paying my respects. She was going to be your replacement here, but ever since you visited Belden, the colonel there — Harcourt? — has been absolutely _insisting_ on his post having a nurse of their own! It seems you made quite an impression with your professionalism there! Excellent work, my dear. You’ve made my job much easier!”

You had a pretty good idea just what aspect of your professionalism had made an impression on Harcourt, but you thanked Chapel just the same. You also made a mental note to talk to Janice when you had a chance. If nothing else, she was going to want a few copies of Homer to deal with his pickup lines.

Nyota came by shortly after that, and the three of them helped you get ready. By the time they were done, you had the prerequisite old, borrowed, and blue somethings, as well as your favorite — the brand-new official insignia of the U.S. Nurse Corps, a small bronze cross that you fastened to the collar of your dress.

~~~~~

Being a smaller post, Enterprise did not have a dedicated chapel; worship services were held in the same hall as regular staff meetings. In this case, though, someone had decorated the hall much more than usual; there were paper streamers and lanterns, and the cacti around the building had been decked with whatever perennial blooms and colorful scraps could be found around the base as well. Looking at the humble decorations, you felt a sudden rush of intense gratitude that you wouldn’t be leaving Enterprise after all. It may have taken you longer than expected to find your place here, but just the effort that had gone into the decor was something that showed more care and affection than anything your biological family had ever put forth for you. 

Waiting for you at the doorway, ready to walk you down the aisle, was the colonel in his dress uniform. Seeing him suddenly drove home the point that this was really happening — you were really going through with it again. 

“Ready?” Kirk asked. 

“As I’ll ever be.” You took a deep breath.

Kirk looked at you carefully and searched your eyes, noticing your nervousness. “You know, Y/N, just in case, it’s not too late. If you’re having second thoughts.” He put a hand on your arm.

“No sir,” you reassured him. “No second thoughts. It’s just the crowd. I’ll be fine once I get up there.”

He smiled broadly, and you took his arm. “By the way,” he said, before you went in. “I hope you like the decorations. I have it on record that a couple of the enlisted fellows — Wismer and McGoff? — called in a few favors and got their friends to help them put it all together. It’s not just McCoy — there are are a lot of folks here who were very happy to hear that you’ll be sticking around after all.”   
  


~~~~~

The hall was just about as full as it had sounded from outside, and you took a deep breath as you entered. As soon as you saw Leonard, though, your nerves calmed. God, he looked good. Since you’d gotten to Enterprise, you’d really only ever seen him in his white coat or that beige muslin shirt he’d worn on the road (and, of course, what had been underneath it). Him standing there in his full uniform, though, the jet black shirt setting off his dark hair and bright blue eyes, was quite a sight for sore eyes, and you were suddenly too preoccupied to care about the size of your audience.

It seemed to be the same for him, and you guessed he probably hadn’t been expecting to see you in a dress that wasn’t your Nurse Corps uniform. You took each other’s hands and smiled, your cheeks heating a little. 

The two of you stood before the chaplain, occasionally sneaking glances at each other and hand squeezes, until you were called upon for feedback. “I do,” he said, and you responded in kind.

“I now pronounce you man and wife. You may kiss the bride.”

This is it! you thought, as he lifted the veil and you leaned toward each other.

Before you could fully embrace, though, you heard a loud rattling noise outside accompanied by yelling. It sounded like gunfire, but much more rapid, like a string of fireworks. This was neither the Fourth of July nor Lunar New Year, though. The doors flew open and a breathless sergeant ran in. “Sir! Colonel! We’re under attack!”


	15. Conflict Resolution**

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reader and Len have more than their share of wedding drama, but she helps him find the silver lining.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This thing turned out to be way more fluff-heavy than I’d intended, so if you came for the smut, hopefully this chapter makes it worth your while.

Kirk grabbed the sergeant by the shoulders. “What do you mean we’re under attack? Who? Who’s out there?”

“It’s Judson, sir,” he said. “He’s here and he’s got the Maxim gun. There’s a group of them over behind the barracks.”

“What the devil?” Kirk yelled. “What are you talking about? It can’t be Judson, he’s in Yuma. No one can get out of that place!” He looked over at the audience, specifically at Gen. Herbert, who clenched his jaw and looked down.

“Judson didn’t go to Yuma, sir, the sergeant said under his breath. He was just buck-and-gagged and then drummed out. Simms, too. They found their way here, sir, and they ain’t happy about it.”

“Dammit, of course they are. Of all the.... Spock! Bones, Y/LN, I’m sorry.”

You and Leonard stared at each other in shock for a moment. Surely an attack on the fort couldn’t be happening, not now. Not today.

It _was_ happening, though, and whatever your feelings about it, they’d have to wait. There were lives at stake.

Leonard clearly had the same thought process. He ran after Kirk. “Wait, Jim! You’ll need help.”

“What I need, Bones, is a living surgeon and nurse in case this maniac does any damage to my men. You and Y/N get in the supply closet and stay there until you hear otherwise.”

“Jim, do you really think you—”

“Dammit Bones, that’s an order!” With that, Kirk all but shoved the two of you into the closet.  
  


~~~~~

Judson’s demands were simple — send out Herbert and his senior officers, and nobody else would be hurt. Kirk, of course, refused to entertain any part of this idea even though he was beside himself at Herbert’s terrible handling of the whole situation. There had to be another way around it. Calling Spock and his other senior line officers into his office, he determined to work out a strategy to get Judson back into custody.

~~~~~

The supply closet in the meeting hall was small, but it was big enough to accommodate an irate surgeon’s pacing. “That blasted fool, what did he think was doing just drumming him out? Of all the boneheaded... We won’t get out of here for 72 hours at least.” As always when he was worked up, Leonard’s accent had gotten stronger, causing him to drop some of his consonants, and you couldn’t help noticing despite the situation.

You put a hand on his arm in an attempt to soothe him. “I’m sure it’ll be ok, Len. Worse has happened here before, from what you’ve told me. And it’s just a few of them.”

“Yes, with a machine gun, Y/N.” He bounced slightly in agitation before resuming his pacing.

“Do they even really know how to use it? That thing jams pretty easy, and they don’t have one at Belden. And Simms is a doctor, not a soldier.” Leonard gave you a look. “You know what I mean. It’s not his area of expertise.”

Leonard considered. “Maybe not. But even if they don’t, they can still hold us here for hours or days ‘til he gets what he wants or someone manages to get at him.” The drawl was coming through again, even more pronounced this time. You felt bad that he was so upset, but damn if part of you didn’t want to see just how strong it could get.

“Leonard,” you said, taking a deep breath and trying to sound reassuring. “I’m sure everything will be fine.”

He looked at you like you were out of your mind.

“Dammit, it’s our wedding day, Y/N. This isn’t exactly what I had in mind.”

“Well, look on the bright side, we probably have a little time,” you smiled.

He looked at you blankly, still frowning. “What bright side could this possibly have?”

“I can think of a few,” you said, smiling as you ran your fingertips over his shoulders.

“Y/N, what... are...” His voice trailed off, his concentration broken by the pair of soft lips and teeth nipping at his ear.

“Len, you have your orders. We both do,” you whispered, smiling as you tugged gently on his belt.

His eyes widened as your meaning sank in. “Y/N,” he said incredulously. “ _Now_?”

“Why not?” you asked. “You have someplace else to be?”

“Well, what happens if someone busts in here?”

“Oh, that would be terrible, wouldn’t it? Someone finding out just how much the post surgeon knows about female anatomy?” you teased. “That’s kind of the point. But I’ll stop it if you want me to. It won’t stop me from thinking about it, though.” You bit your lip and raised your brows suggestively.

He stared at you, realizing that you were serious — that not only were you not especially afraid of Judson, but you wanted him so badly that you were willing to take whatever you could get, even a quickie in a closet. A low growl came out of his chest. Especially after that second night on the trail, he didn’t have it in him to turn you down.

He cursed and checked the door. “I can’t believe you,” he drawled, unbuckling his belt. The accent was nearing maximum strength now. “Willing to take me where the whole post could catch us. What kind of woman did I get myself mixed up with?”

The kind you desperately need, you thought, as you hitched yourself up on a conveniently placed low cabinet. He leaned into you, capturing your lips in a searing kiss.

Slowly, with eager, hot hands, he pushed your skirts up. You were incredibly grateful to whoever had designed pantaloons to have the crotch unsewn because it allowed his hands to go directly where you needed them without you having to remove anything. You whimpered as you felt hot fingertips teasing you, and again when he swore under his breath at your practically dripping readiness for him.

McCoy couldn’t help but remember the dream he’d had out on the trail that first night — the one that had led to him rutting into you as he’d imagined taking you in the infirmary — as he leaned into and pushed his growing erection up against you. Truth be told, although he was acting put out, it was a complete facade. He was just as desperate for this as you were, if not much more so. He hadn’t been able to think of much else since you’d returned from Belden, especially since he now knew exactly what he was missing. Worse, between work and social obligations, you’d barely had any time alone together. “We have to be careful, sweetheart,” he whispered in your ear, pressing hot kisses to the side of your face as he rocked his hips up against your core. “Can you be a good girl and take me quietly? Hmm?”

“Yes, Leonard,” you practically begged. It hadn’t taken him long at all to get completely hard, and his shaft was rubbing against you deliciously. You were desperate to finally feel him inside you. “I’ll be good. Please, sir.”

Leonard breathed heavily, your appeal to authority getting exactly the desired reaction. Leaning in for another steamy kiss, he slid two of his fingers into you, making a gentle scissoring motion to prepare you for him. You didn’t quite get the purpose for this at first, but you didn’t have much time to wonder because moments later, he was coating his cock in your moisture and starting to guide himself in, just the head of him nudging inside at first.

You whimpered in surprise at the sensation. Even with the preparation he’d done with his fingers, he still felt enormous, and he kept getting thicker with every roll of his hips as he pressed into you. “Leonard,” you whispered, “I...”

“Shh, honey. You can do it. Just take it slow.” You grasped his arms as he rocked back and forth, sinking a bit deeper each time, and whispering soothingly between hungry kisses as he opened you up. The gentleness of his words and movements, waiting patiently each time until the burn eased and you could take more of him, helped you relax enough to accommodate his girth, and he finally bottomed out. You both exhaled shakily, getting used to the overwhelming fullness and tightness and the intensity of the moment.

“Fuck, sweetheart, you feel even better than I thought you would,” he said in a choked growl, gripping your hips and breathing through gritted teeth as he tried to get himself under control and not give into the tight, wet heat around him. You wrapped stockinged legs around him, burying your face in his shirt and just absorbing the feeling of him finally inside you and filling you so perfectly. The burn from the stretch was gone, replaced by an exquisite fullness, and you were desperate to feel him move. He twitched slightly and you clenched around him reflexively. “Ughhhh, Y/N,” he moaned softly.

“Thought you were supposed to be ‘takin’ me quietly,’” you whispered breathlessly in a teasing imitation of his earlier tone.

Leonard didn’t respond to your taunt with words, merely withdrawing and snapping back in abruptly, a flash of mischief lighting up his eyes as he saw you stifle a cry. He nodded at your change in countenance.

“Mhmm. That pretty mouth of yours, sweetheart,” he chided, rocking his hips teasingly, “is going to get you into trouble someday.”

“If this is your definition of trouble, sir...” your voice trailed off into a soft moan as he pulled back and thrust in again.

“No, sugar,” he whispered, throbbing heavily at your continued use of his title. “This is.” With that, he angled himself so his next thrust hit you just right, surprising you with a deep pleasure you hadn’t known existed and biting your neck roughly at exactly the same time. You bit your lip hard to stop from moaning, but a whine still escaped.

“Ohh...is that right? Any more sass you’d like to share, my dear?” he teased, his fingers finding their way to your clit and teasing in light circles. He knew he wasn’t going to last long, not with the fierce friction starting to build between your bodies and the eager way you were moving against him as he began to ride you. He nipped at your neck and his other large hand groped and squeezed at your chest, waist, and hips, frustrated by the layers of fabric separating him from your warm flesh.

You could hear harsh voices outside now, right on the other side of the wall. You startled and hesitated, but Leonard shook his head, way too far gone to consider stopping. “Look at me, honey,” he whispered. Covering your mouth lightly with his hand, he started to fuck you in earnest, keeping his eyes on you and circling your clit with his thumb in rhythm with his thrusts. He had angled himself to push up against that same spot each time, and you could tell by the smirk on his face that he knew exactly what he was doing. You flung your head back in ecstasy, choking back a moan. You couldn’t imagine what his ex-wife had been thinking to walk away from this.

Between the intensity of your shared gaze and the presence of danger just a few feet away, it was all you could do to not scream in pleasure as he pumped himself into you greedily, his fingers seeking and stroking eagerly as he sought to make this as hot for you as it was for him. Leaning forward, he began whispering filthy compliments about how good you felt and how well you were taking him. Obscene words full of affection that somehow sounded ten times dirtier in his soft gentleman’s accent. You were almost beyond intelligible speech now and could only clench and whimper for more as he pushed all your buttons at once. You grabbed his hips, encouraging him to go deeper, wanting to feel every inch of him inside you. He answered by driving in harder but slowing down his pace, partly to tease, but partly to savor the overwhelming friction between you, which was threatening to push you both over the edge with every push of his hips into yours.

He couldn’t wait to get you into his bed and do this properly, to have you laid out completely bare underneath him and hear every moan and plea and “sir” he knew you were holding in. He started thinking about what he’d do to you out on the range now, with no need to fear a scandal and no one to hear for miles, not that the idea of the entire post hearing you scream his name and rank as he fucked you into a frenzy was without its own appeal.

A door closed, and the voices outside drifted away. No sooner did you hear their retreat than Leonard let a loud groan of your name escape, his cock swelling inside you, and withdrew only to slam back into you.

“Sir,” you whimpered, fluttering around him as the dam started to spill, “Sir, I’m so close...oh ....I’m going to...”

He quickly covered your mouth with his, swallowing your cry as you wrapped your legs around him, curled up, and ground out an intense orgasm around his swelling cock. He continued rubbing you in tight circles, whispering praises: “That’s it, sweetheart, good girl, ride it out now, ohhh _fuck_ sugar, keep movin’ on me just like that, don’t stop...” You continued rolling your hips to meet his thrusts, feeling him pulse heavily inside you.

“Are you ready for me, honey?” he whispered. You nodded and moaned wordlessly. “I’m going to come inside you, sweetheart.” You nodded again and clutched his arms, and with as quiet a groan as he could muster, he let go and completely gave in. Gripping your thighs hard, he held them open and watched himself as he pounded his way home with rough, claiming thrusts. You felt a surge of heat deep inside you as he began to fill you with his release, and the sensation was too much. You arched your back and cried softly as you came around him again, your walls tightening around him a second time and squeezing him even harder than before. “Oh, fuck, sweetheart,” he sobbed, forgetting about where he was and growling, groaning, and cursing as he shoved in deep, coming so hard he thought he might black out.

The two of you collapsed against the wall in near silence, kissing deeply and panting as quietly as you could, stunned from the pleasure and not yet wanting to separate. He knew this was only the beginning, and that the two of you would have plenty of time, but right now all he wanted to do was this, to take you in every way imaginable, in his bed, on the floor, in that damnable Verde River itself, until one or both of you were in traction. He had waited so long for this, the warmth and mutual desire and complete acceptance he felt from you, that even just a few extra hours without your touch seemed completely unacceptable.

Several rounds went off in the distance then, and you heard a triumphant yell. “Leonard,” you whispered, stroking his hair. “Should we peek outside?”

He sighed. “Probably. Just give me a minute.” Reluctantly, he pulled out, and then pulled back to look at you, and the look in his eyes took your breath away. The resigned frown he usually wore had been replaced by a relaxed joy that made him look at least 10 years younger. You wrapped yourself around him tightly and gave him a squeeze in reassurance. “I know,” you said. “At least we’ll be working together?”

Just then, Kirk’s voice outside the door brought you back to reality. “Bones? Nurse Y/L—er, McCoy?” You looked at each other, in a combination of panic and suppressed laughter.

“Sir!” you both said, exiting the closet only slightly the worse for wear, all things considered.

“At ease,” Kirk said, raising an eyebrow almost undetectably as he took in the scene before him. “It’s over, you can both come out now.”

“What happened?”

“Judson surrendered. He and the rest of them are in custody, and Spock’s questioning him now. He’s going to go straight to Yuma this time if I have to walk him there myself.”

“Well, that’s great. They’re all alive?” Leonard inquired. “We heard gunfire.”

“Yep, they’re alive,” Kirk smiled. “Judson came up from behind. Made it to right out here, but Spock managed to take him down. Simms and the others surrendered. There’s one accidental injury from that Maxim gun that I’ll need you to look at, but once that’s finished, you two can be on your way. Chapel and her assistant volunteered to take over until you get back. It’s not standard procedure, but I think all things considered, we can make an exception.” Kirk smiled and nodded at you. “You should probably go pack,” he grinned.

“Thank you, sir!” you said, shrugging and beaming at Leonard as you headed out.

“Oh uh Bones,” Kirk added, after you’d left. “I’m...sorry about your wedding being cut off there.”

“Oh, quite alright, sir. These things happen. I’m just glad everyone is okay.”

“Yes, yes. Well, I’d offer to call Solow back to complete the ceremony,” he said, rubbing his chin, “but I believe the vows were already made... and from what I can tell, it sounds like things may have been... otherwise completed?” He smirked and raised his eyebrows.

“Sir?” McCoy reddened considerably as he realized the implication. “You don’t mean...you don’t think we would have... In there?”

“Oh, no, doctor, no, of course not. Oh, by the way. You, ah...might want to buckle your belt before heading back out there.”

McCoy looked down and sighed deeply, shaking his head. “Dammit, Jim.”  
  


~~~~~

Altogether, 1895 had been a cool, wet year, and that night, the first snowfall of December landed lightly on the roof of your canvas tent, pitched on the banks of the Verde River. This, of course, meant that the soaking-wet items you’d placed on a makeshift cholla rack to dry by the fire would merely be crunchy with ice in the morning, and you’d have to stay at least another day (no doubt giving Leonard another chance to pull you down into the river with him or otherwise ensure your clothing would be too wet to wear and you’d have to just stay with him in the tent).

As you lay warm and bare in his arms, though, the afterglow and his gentle words and kisses lulling you to sleep, you couldn’t really be bothered to care.


End file.
